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Chapter Text

I have written the history of Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty and it has been published in the Strand Magazine. I wrote about their meeting and subsequent confrontation at the Reichenbach Falls and Holmes’ return three years later.

It was all fiction written up by the Holmes’ brothers and myself to keep prying eyes away from the Marketplace and its activities along with our own due to laws in England and other places.

What really happened between Holmes and Moriarty and the subsequent consequences will probably never see the light of day. It almost cost one man his mind and another his life but I feel I must chronicle what happened for my own peace of mind or I might go mad myself. Or maybe I already have gone considering the loss and heartache that this part of our history together.

None of us were the same after this and, I think, not one of us truly recovered.

How this all started was with what I thought was a spectacularly bad idea.

“You want me to what?” I asked.

Mycroft looked at me with cold distain, “Dr. Watson, I know you heard me correctly and you also know how I feel about repeating myself.”

I look to Sherlock for guidance in this matter He shrugged.

“I don’t think I can do that Sir,” I said.

“Don’t or Can’t Doctor?” he growled at me.

“No Mycroft, this just won’t do,” said Holmes, “you are scaring him and we both know what happens when you back Watson into a corner. It doesn’t go well for any of us.”

“What if my brother ordered you to?” asked Mycroft.

“He could order me to fly but I could not complete the task,” I said rather brusquely, “nor do I think I can complete this order either.”

“You must,” said Mycroft, “you and only you can do this. We are compromised and I cannot find out where or who. This is the only way we can be sure of our safety and the safety of the Marketplace as a whole.”

“We have managed in the past to keep our society secret from all outsiders,” I said, “I can’t believe that this time….”

Sherlock cut me off, “John, he is right. If we don’t do something the whole structure will be lost. I will lose you and I cannot do that. We will find ourselves in prison or dead or worse.”

I sighed and rubbed my hands across my face trying to find another argument to keep from having to join in with this mad plan, “What if I do it? I am already trained and can easily perform the tasks needed.”

Sherlock shook his head, “No, I can’t risk you and you are know as my associate and to some my slave. It has to be me.”

“Why? Why does it have to be you? I can think of half a dozen people it could be that aren’t you.”

“Because I have abilities that these other people don’t have. Watson, you know it has to be me. In your heart of hearts you know this.”

“I don’t have to like it,” I said trying not to sob and failing horribly.

“No,” said Mycroft, “You have to do your duty like you did in Afghanistan and as you do day to day for my brother.”

“Bringing up Afghanistan was probably not the best tact,” said Sherlock.

He stood up and came over to where I was kneeling. He ran his fingers through my hair before grabbing a handful and giving a good tug on it. He forced me to look at him.

“Watson, you will do this. You will excel at this and give me the information and training I will need to survive this. Do you understand?”

It is impossible to shake one’s head when it is being held forcibly in one place.

“Yes, Sir. I will do as you ask. I will train you. I will do all that is in my power to give you the tools to survive this.”

Holmes let go of my head and leaned over kissing me on the top of my head, “That’s my good slave.”

I melted at his touch and kind words.

“It doesn’t mean I have to like any of this,” I said.

“We are not asking you to like it. We are asking for your help to make sure that my brother makes it back to us in one piece.”

I shuttered at the thought.

“Hush Mycroft, you are scaring him.”

“When do we start?” I asked.

“Good old Watson, all down to business. I suggest we come up with a reason for the two of us to vacate London for a while and go to the continent so we can begin.”

“You are both mad,” I said.

And that is how I John Watson agreed to train Sherlock Holmes to be a slave to be sold on the block in the Marketplace.

Chapter Text

My head spun with the task before me. I had only the barest of ideas on how to start. I had been trained but it was by my freewill that I signed my freedom away to be a slave.

Holmes wanted to play the part but I did not feel he really had a grasp as to the part he would be playing.

“Watson,” said Holmes, “You seem awfully thoughtful. I want you to know that I believe you can do this.”

I shook my head, “Holmes you do not know what you are asking of me or what you are getting yourself into. I have lived this with every fiber of my being for what seems my entire life. But you, you are so use to be in total control of the situation and slavery is a total loss of that control.”

He snorted derisively, “Watson you do not give me enough credit.”

“I do Holmes and that is what worried me. I know you. I know you better than you know yourself at time.”

“And I you Watson. Probably one of the reasons we are so suited for each other.”

“I….I need some time to think Holmes. Can you give me a day?’

He nodded and said, “The topic is closed until tomorrow.”

I sighed and settled back in my seat for the short ride to 221B.

We found supper awaiting us when we arrived. I send a note to Mary letting her know I would be late this evening and not to wait up for my return.

We supped in silence with my mind going all sorts of places trying to get a handle on how to do what I needed to do and how to get Holmes to agree to do what he needed to do. He was not the pliable sort.

I made my exit after Holmes indicated that he would be going to bed shortly and he would see me tomorrow afternoon at the Turkish bathes we so loved.

I thought long and hard on the way to my house and could only find more reasons this was a bad idea. The only saving grace I could see was that Holmes’ abilities in mimicry were second to none.

Mary was still up when I got home. She was having a late snack in our drawing room.

“You look like you are carrying your bad news,” she said offering me a plate with some meat and bread.

I sat down heavily and nodded trying to figure out where to start.

Mary got up and poured me a measure of scotch. She knelt next to me smoothly and offered me the glass.

I took the glass and drank a pull of the scotch. The burn down my throat gave me focus that I so desperately needed.

She smiled, stood up gracefully, and went back to her seat.

“What troubles you husband?”

I laid out the problem I have been given by the Holmes’ and my fears of what could go wrong and why. I talked myself hoarse.

Mary smiled at me a bit sadly and said, “That is a problem indeed. Come to bed dear. Let me take care of you.”

She took the empty glass out of my hand and helped me to my feet.

I opened my mouth and she placed a finger on my lips, “Shhhhhhhh. No. Say nothing.”

I let her lead me upstairs to my bedroom. She sat me down on a chair and started to undress me. I tried to help but she slapped my hand away. I let her strip me of my clothes. She sat me on the edge of the bed.

I looked up at her.

She smiled at me and knelt in front of me. She put her hands on my knees and pushed them apart. I obeyed and watched as she reached for my member, which was showing interest. She took me in hand and did a pull and tug with a twist. I hissed through my teeth as I felt all the blood rush to my groin. She was very skillful with her hands but her mouth was a religious experience. As she licked and sucked my cock and balls, I found myself losing control quickly and releasing in her mouth.

I fell back into my bed. She tucked me in and kissed me on the forehead. As I was falling into the arm of Morpheus I heard her say, “We’ll talk tomorrow my dear. I think I know how you can do this and how I can help you.”

I slept without dreaming.

Chapter Text

The next morning I awoke to a light tap on the door.

“Yes?”

“Sir, your wife asks if you will be joining her for breakfast,” came the voice of my valet Liam.

I groaned and looked at my watch. Half past seven, which was late for me.

“Tell her that I shall and come help me dress,” I said getting up and putting on my dressing gown which Mary had apparently put out for me the night before.

I went through my morning stretching exercises by which time Liam had arrived to shave me. I did my morning toiletry and went to the dining room to find Mary surrounded by papers that she was moving about.

“Ah,” she said upon seeing me, “You are up.”

I grinned what I thought was a devilish grin at her and said, “You rather took care of that last night.”

I walked over to her and kissed her, “Thank you for that. I think I forgot to tell you at the time.”

She smiled, “You were at all ends yesterday. Better today?”

I nodded, “I feel more able to look at this problem without panicking.”

“Good, now eat some breakfast and let me show you what I was thinking about.”

As I ate, she outlined her ideas for readying Holmes for this insane mission he was on. I gave her some ideas of my own and by the end of breakfast we had a plan that just might work. Our only unknown was Holmes’ temperament to the plan itself which could be capricious at times.

I went to my surgery and saw patients then did a few house calls. I had lunch at my club and then walked over to the Turkish baths that Holmes and I patronized regularly.

Holmes was there in the changing room waiting for me. The bath slaves helped us remove our clothes and wrapped towels around our waists. They knelt in front of us expecting to be used before we entered the warm room. Holmes waved them off and we walked into the warm room. I removed my towel, placed it on the stone bench, and sat down. Holmes did the same.

As we started to sweat, I outlined to Holmes the plan that Mary and I came up with. His objections were what I expected.

“No,” said Holmes, “it has to be you.”

“Do you understand that you may be called on to service both sexes? Mary is the perfect solution for this.”

“Remind me to punish you for telling your wife about this,” said Holmes.

“You asked me to train you. To give you the knowledge you need to survive. She has knowledge I can’t impart to you. I don’t have the equipment.”

Holmes huffed in derision.

“If you want to do this properly, you need Mary. This is not a game Holmes. I take my servitude very seriously. I am a slave both body and soul. You are a Master who has to learn to mimic what is ingrained in my whole being. It’s not a sex holiday.”

Holmes almost snorted the tea he had been sipping through his nose.

“Watson,” he said in his best ‘I am so disappointed in you’ voice,” Is that what you think I am angling for?”

I got up and walked to the hot room. Holmes followed. We didn’t say much at that point. I tried to find a way to express what the anger I was feeling. He had asked me to do this. He had given me this task. If he would not let me take the lead in this, what was the point.

I sweated and fumed until my mind couldn’t take it anymore. I left the hot room and plunged into the pool of cool water. I swam for a bit letting my body cool along with my mind before getting a massage and retiring to the cooling room.

Holmes followed me to each and once we had been given food and drink along with tobacco.

“I apologize Watson. I know what you have done is with my best interests at heart. You were not wrong to involve Mary. I do not think she or her mistress are our problem.”

I glared at Holmes, “You really do not understand why I am angry do you?”

He looked so puzzled and lost.

“You are asking me to give you up to God knows what and that Sherlock is very hard to do. I do not and cannot be responsible for the death of my Master. I went through this once and it almost destroyed me. You are asking me to put you heaven knows where in a situation where I can’t help you except to pray for your safe return. I don’t know if I can do this again. It almost killed me last time.”

His face softened as understanding dawned as to my reticence to this whole venture. He crossed to the lounge I was sitting on and took me in his arms.

“Oh John, my poor John. I hadn’t thought….I….I am sorry. I did not mean to cause you this sort of pain. We’ll find someone else to do this.”

“No Sherlock,” I said, “I agreed to do this and we will do this but Mary is part of this too.”

“Agreed,” he said, “now how shall we do this?”

We worked out that Mary and I would go to the continent on holiday to celebrate our wedding anniversary. Holmes would follow a few days later on the grounds of being summoned by the French police for a matter. Mycroft would make those arrangements for him. We would then meet up in the south of France at the manor that was in the Holmes’ family still.

The night before we were to leave, I found myself in tied to Holmes’ bed being tormented slowly by my Master. I wanted to touch him but was denied the ability by the ropes and leather that he had used on me. He used my body as his instrument forcing groans and moans and shouts from my lips creating the music between us that only we understood. He fucked me raw and then we fell asleep in each others arms not known that this would be the last time we would be in Baker Street together like this for a very long time.

Chapter Text

Mary and I settled into the Manor in the south of France. Actually it was the rather roomy caretaker’s cottage because the house was too big for the two of us. Mycroft had sent all the servants away so we could work in secret. We had to take care of the horses in the stable and some of the farm animals that were on the grounds near the Manor.

The rest of the estate was taken care of by tenants that had been part of this land since they were freed from being serfs. They had been informed to give the Manor a wide berth. This was not an unusual command as Mycroft used the Manor for meetings that had to be very much away from prying eyes. The village was very loyal to the Holmes family. They were well paid for their service to the family and their ability to keep quiet. The Holmes’ had paid for the school in the village and made generous donations that helped everyone who lived there. Outsiders were looked on with great suspicion unless they were introduced by the Holmes family.

A week after we arrived under the cover of darkness, Sherlock Holmes slipped back into our lives and our work began in earnest.

I was never concerned that he would not be able to learn basic forms that are Marketplace standard. He already had most of this knowledge from his time as an owner.

We decided that it would be best to train him as a valet and body servant as well as a butler. That way he might have access to the information he was seeking.

The name he picked was Johan Sigerson. He created a background of being from Rotterdam. He knew enough people there and Mycroft was able to create a life for him. Holmes spoke Dutch as well as German, French, Russian, and Italian with a passing knowledge of Chinese and Arabic. He was able to affect an accent of someone who was born in Rotterdam but spent a majority of his life in England.

His physical appearance took a little more work. Sherlock Holmes had been the subject of study in news articles over most of the world. His face has been illustrated accurately. Since he was being sold, he couldn’t make sure he had access to his tools for disguise.

Mary was most helpful in this. She had him grow his hair out a bit and stop putting anything in it. She also got a hold of some henna and put that in his hair bringing a red tinge to it. Which, surprisingly, matched the beard she had him grown. I showed him how to maintain it and trim it. Between that and forcing him to eat regularly, he didn’t look like himself any more.

Not everything went as smoothly as his appearance.

“Watson, I don’t think I can nor would I ever be able to do what you ask,” he said in frustration.

“Am I that horrid?” asked Mary who was lying naked on the large bed with her hands bound above her head.

He shook his head, “No Mary, you are anything but. I just…I just can’t…perform the way you both wish me to.”

“I have shown you the basic mechanics. I know you saw what to do on our wedding night.”

“It’s not that….” He trailed off and squirmed against his bonds.

“Then what? This makes no sense Holmes. Think of it as acting on a whole other stage.”

“I don’t trust anything that bleeds for seven days and doesn’t die! It’s not natural.” The words exploded from his lips. He turned a bright red after his exclamation.

Both Mary and I tried not to laugh. It was not a laughing matter. We called upon our training to stifle the giggles that were coming to our lips. Thank G-d he was blindfolded so he could not see our faces.

He sagged back on his knees and said, ”Go ahead and have a laugh at the invert’s expense. There is it. I find that part of the female sex unwholesome and I have a damnable adverse reaction to it.”

“Hence the blindfold Holmes,” I said as I untied Mary. I motioned her to join me.

“Alright we are just going to have to work on this,” I said as I untied Holmes but left the blindfold on, “I want you to position yourself on the bed with your arms above your head and your legs spread.”

Mary and I proceeded to lash him to the middle bed so he had very little wiggle room. I motioned to Mary to get on his left side while I put myself on his right. Mary nodded and complied.

I mouthed ‘follow my lead’ and she smiled. I took my left hand and placed it right above his torso where he could feel the warmth coming from it but not the hand itself. I ran my hand down his torso and then up his arm as Mary did the same. This elicited a rather sharp intake of breath from Holmes. We did this several times and then changed to just our fingertips running patterns across his torso not going lower than his navel.

He started to squirm under our touch and his member which had been barely at half-mast came to life. I pinched and rolled his nipples in my fingers bring them to points and Holmes to panting. Mary took her hand and tickled his balls and below making sure not to touch his cock.

He moaned my name and tried to thrust himself so that Mary would have to touch his cock.

I placed a hand on his hip and said, “Settle.”

“Watson this is not…”

I placed my other hand over his mouth and said, “Do I have to gag you?”

I could see his eyebrows raise at the thought and his skin blushed even further. I motioned with my head for Mary to stop.

She mouthed, “Shall I?”

I nodded and she went to get the leather gag that had my teeth imprints on it from its use. I removed my hand and she quickly put the gag in place.

There were inarticulate protests from Holmes’ mouth but his member did not flag. `
I settled myself so I could whisper in his ear and play with his nipples. Mary went back to teasing his cock with her hands and adding licks and nips with her mouth.

“Ah Sherlock if I had only known that all I had to do was tie YOU down and torment you. You should see how stiff your cock is. It looks ready to burst. In fact I had better do something about it before you do.”

Holmes shook his head back and forth and I knew he was about to release. I nodded at Mary and she got up and lowered herself onto his member and rode him for all she was worth. I removed Holmes’ gag only to replace it with my mouth. Using my lips and tongue to absorb the lovely sounds falling from his lips.

Then with a hoarse shout he came almost pulling himself free of the restrains in the violence of his release. He fell back to the bed and for a moment there was silence with the exception of all the heavy breathing as Mary and I had both come as well.

Mary and I unbound Holmes and I removed the blindfold.

Holmes was crying trying to stifle the sound of his sobs but once the blindfold was off the evidence was there.

I took him into my arms and Mary stroked his hand carefully.

He buried his face into my clavicle and I could feel tension pouring out of him as he tried to compose himself but was lost.

I stroked his back and arm while holding him. Mary got up and poured a glass of water from the pitcher in the room. I got him to drink some and drank the rest myself.

Finally he calmed down.

“I apologize to you both. You gave me something beautiful and I sullied it with my atrocious behavior.”

“No Sherlock. Not at all. It can be overwhelming and better with us than your Master or Mistress,” said Mary as she came into the other side and added her hug to mine.

“I didn’t think I could…perform for the fairer sex,” he said.

She grinning a wicked grin and said, “Could have fooled me since I am quite satisfied. You John?”

I laughed, “Oh I am very satisfied indeed.”

Holmes gave a big yawn and rubbed his eyes. Mary and I met each other’s gaze and settled down with one of us on either side of him. The three of us drifted off to sleep not knowing what was to follow.

Chapter Text

The brush went hurtling across the room and hit the wall with a loud smack.

“THIS IS POINTLESS,” roared Holmes as he started to chuck the shoe that was in his other hand and I stopped him.

“No, this is service,” I said firmly not letting go of his hand as I could feel the tension still coursing through him.

“Settle,” I said and he sat back on his haunches. I could almost see the frustration radiating from his body.

I took off the blindfold and removed the shoe from his hand.

He blinked several times adjusting to the candlelight in the kitchen.

“When will I ever be shining shoes blindfolded?” he asked throwing his hands up in the air.

I sighed. I picked up the blacking brush from the floor and returned to the short stool I had been sitting on. I adjusted the tools I need for the task at hand around me, picked up the shoe that I had rescued from Holmes’ wrath, closed my eyes, and proceeded to clean, blacken, and polish the shoe without opening my eyes once.

I put the shoe down and opened my eyes. The look on Holmes’ face was as if I had poleaxed him.

I repeated, “This is service.”

He snorted derisively.

I continued, “This is the thing I cannot teach you but you must learn to mimic it without any hesitation. I am called to service. I am called to serve you and your whims and moods. I am called to serve you body and soul. This is me to the core.”

He looked at me quizzically and I could tell he was analyzing me trying to figure out what was being said.

“You will be asked to do things that you find pointless but yours is not to question why but to do the task given to you to the best of your abilities.”

“How? How can you just do this Watson? It goes against every fiber in my being to do things that are senseless.”

“This is not senseless. I learned how to dress my Master in total darkness and I have used this skill. I learned how to be as unobtrusive as possible. To be invisible. Think back on how many times things magically appeared before you asked for them. How I seem to know what you need before you know yourself. Think about Mrs. Hudson and how she is always there with whatever you are looking for. How she seems to appear and vanish with you none the wiser.”

I watched Holmes think about what I had said and I saw the realization come across his face. I gave a small sigh of relief as I could see that he finally “got it”. He might actually be able to pull this off.

I placed a hand on his bare shoulder, “Let’s try it again.”

I put the items back in front of him and put the blindfold back on him.

He picked up the brush and proceeded to clean the shoe with vigor.

Chapter Text

It was not an easy two months for any of us. But slowly Holmes learned what he had to learn to survive this idiotic mission.

By the end of the first month, he could be sold as a valet and body slave to either sex. He had learned the ins and outs of dressing men and women. Mary had been very pleased with his abilities for brushing hair and massage. Those long fingers of his turned out to be very talented as did his tongue much to her delight.

He learned how to service women sexual and make it feel so good. I had a splendid time of while he ‘practiced’ on me.

By the end of the second month, I felt that he had succeeded to a point that he could be sold.

I contacted Mycroft who joined us at the Manor with several of his slaves in tow.

“Are you sure he is ready?” Mycroft asked us at dinner as the servants laid out the various parts of the meal

“He’s as ready and we can make him,” I said and Mary nodded.

Mycroft looked concerned, “That’s not an answer. I need to see him.”

He heard a voice behind him say softly, “Mycroft.”

Mycroft turned around and really looked at the man who had met him at the door and took his coat and had just served him his meal. As the realization set in of who he was looking at, his expression changed and he looked poleaxed.

Sherlock smiled and gave a slight bow.

“My word, you have done a fine job indeed,” he laughed, “I did not recognize you at all!”

I gestured to one of the empty chairs and Sherlock sat down.

Mycroft shook his head and said, “Brother, you continue to surprise me.”

Sherlock said, “It was all John and Mary’s doing. I just did as instructed.”

I choked on the wine I had been drinking.

Mary pounded me on my back and said, “For the most part.”

“I’ll admit it hasn’t be easy but now here we are. The next move is yours Mycroft.”

Mycroft gestured and was handed a portfolio that he opened and pulled out several sheets of paper.

“Germany,” he said, “in a weeks time there will be a sale that I think will suit our needs. I know the owner of the training house that is sponsoring the auction so I can set up the necessary paperwork. That should give you time to travel to Ravensburg in southern Germany where the sale will be held. I will look over the paperwork that you have compiled for his history and see if we have any problems that need to be addressed.”

“Now I suggest the Watsons retire for the evening. I have things I need to discuss with ‘Johan’.”

Mary and I got up and bowed to Mycroft. Mary took my hand and led me out of the house to the cottage. She sat me down in one of the overstuffed wing backed chairs and put a lap rug over my legs. She knelt down in front of me and took my hand in hers. She looked up into my face for a bit, let my hand go, patted my knee and got up.

I found myself staring at the fire. I could hear Mary moving around the kitchen. My heart hurt and I felt pain in my shoulder where the bullet had passed through. I was sending my Master to battle and I could not be at his side. I felt a tear fall down my cheek. How could I do this? How? It should be me. I can’t bury another one.

Mary knelt back in front of me and offered me a cup of tea rather formally. I took it and automatically took a sip.

“He’ll be fine,” she said getting up and sitting in the chair across from me.

“Can you promise me that? Can you swear to me that I will be serving my Master again? That I won’t find myself right back where I was all those years ago?”

“The situation is different John. You know that somewhere in that silly head of yours. You have seen how far he has come.”

I glared at her.

“You have done your duty as ordered John. You cannot do more than that. If you think you can, then you are being foolish.”

I threw the cup against the fireplace and it exploded into a million shards.

“FOOLISH!!! FOOLISH!!! HAVE YOU EVER LOST YOUR LOVE? HAVE YOU EVER FOUND YOURSELF CONSIDERING THAT EATING A BULLET WOULD FEEL BETTER THAN TO CONTINUE TO LIVE!”

I took two steps towards and found myself with my hand back to hit her. She sat up properly and awaited the blow.

It never fell.

Instead I found myself falling to my knees sobbing like a child. Mary joined me on the floor and took me into her arms. She held me and comforted me as I poured out all my angry and fear and sadness and my frustration. I was so frustrated that no one could see what I could see as to how bad this could get.

She comforted me until the tears stopped and I could compose myself again.

That is how Holmes found us when he entered the cottage.

“Mary, do I need to take him in hand?” he asked.

“I think that might be a good idea,” she said.

The unsaid phrase ‘because it may be the last time I/you have the chance’ was silently floating in the air.

He grabbed me by the collar and hauled me to my feet. I could barely get purchase with the floor before he started to manhandle me up the stairs and into the room where I had been sleeping.

“Strip!” came the command.

I opened my mouth.

“Did I say speak?”

I closed my mouth and proceeded to disrobe as ordered.

He pointed to the floor in front of him and I dropped to my knees where he pointed.

“Watson, you have made your feeling clear about how you feel about what I am about to do. Even after expressing your recalcitrance about this whole affair, you did what was asked of you and worked to prepare me for what I must do next. And for that I do thank you. I know you. I know your mind. I want you to remember what happens next as my promise that you will serve me until our dying days. Always. Now I want you to stand up and grab the footboard. Ass out and ready.”

I heard him pull something out of the closet. I resisted looking.

“Do we need the blindfold?”

I shook my head ‘no’.

“Good more fun this way,” he said with a chuckle. I heard the sound of the thin cane whistling through the air right before it cracked across my backside. I felt the hot lash of the wood’s contact with my skin. One strike became two and two became four and somewhere in the midst of beating I lost count.

He stopped and I fell to my knees still holding on to headboard. He picked me up and tossed me onto the bed with my ass hanging off the end and proceeded to exert his dominance. He used his cock as another instrument to inflict pain and pleasure at the same time. I came howling his Christian name. He joined me howling mine.

He picked me up and gently put me in my bed. Cleaned up my backside and made me drink some water before settling in on the bed next to me holding me close to his heart.

As I fell asleep I heard him say, “I will come back to you John. You are the reason I will return. My beautiful John.”

I smiled and cuddled in to Sherlock knowing that this might be the last time we would be able to be together like this. I didn’t know how wrong and right I would be.

Chapter Text

Mycroft and Sherlock worked out the rest of the details of our charade. The role we were to play was ‘Johan’ previous owners who had fallen on hard times so we were selling our best asset.

I grew out my beard and then shaved to create some rather magnificent mutton chops. Mary dyed my hair black with a touch of grey at the temples. She darkened her hair as well. Mycroft provided us with suitable clothing and papers.

The journey to Ravensberg was pedestrian. We were housed at the manor of a local Baron that was part of the Marketplace awaiting the day of the sale. Holmes played his part very well and no one seemed the wise as to who Johan was.

The day of the sale we went to the castle where the auction was to take place. The castle was owned by several Marketplace owners and was the training house for most of the slaves to be sold that day.

Sherlock looked nervous. I could not tell if he was acting or if he was nervous at the time. We took him into the display room. He removed his clothes and placed them in the closet provided. He knelt where he was ordered. Mary and I sat on chairs on either side of him to answer questions. A flogger and a paddle were placed on hooks on a stand next to where Holmes was displayed.

I put his sales collar on with his number in the auction and whispered in his ear, “Come back to me.”

He smiled a slight smile and nodded.

The rest of the day consisted of people checking out the merchandise. Holmes was made to stand as his private parts were fondled and examined. He turned and presented his ass to be hit. He went through a series of positions on command.

Mary was asked about his oral skills and obedience level. Was he good with hair and dressing a lady?

Several women came by once and then again examining him and giggling. I did not like that very much but managed to keep my face neutral as I could.

I was asked about his valet skills and what he had done for my household.

His record was read and then put back on the high table provided.

It was only when a small woman accompanied by a large man who had obviously been in the military came in that I saw any reaction from Holmes and the only reason I saw that was because I knew him so well. They worked their way around the room looking at each slave until they came to us.

“My,” said the woman, “Now there is something that is easy on the eyes.”

The man grunted in the affirmative.

“Present,” she said and Holmes went through the series of moves that were now ingrained in him.

“Stop,” she said after he had turned around with his fingers laced behind his head with his elbows out.

“Bend over and place your hands on the wall,” she said.

He did as he had been ordered.

She proceeded to press first one of her gloved finger into his ass quickly followed by another one. Holmes tried to relax against the intrusion as he had prepared him for this possible activity.

She continues to piston in and out and then slapped his ass hard with her other hand. The sound was loud to my ears and I could see a handprint quickly raised on his ass from the impact. She did it several more times.

“Rather responsive don’t you think my dear?” she said to the man with her.

“Might do for what you want,” said the man.

Then I saw the telltale signs that this man was wearing a collar under his shirt.

“Flogger,” she said holding out her left hand.

She took the flogger and removed her fingers from Holmes’ ass. She processed to give him a beating that made my toes curl. Holmes, to his credit, took the punishment with neither a groan or a whimper.

“Is he always this quiet?” she asked Mary.

“Only when I ask him to be,” came the reply.

“Hmmmm,” said the woman, “ Turn around.”

Holmes complied with the order.

“Face me,” she said.
He obeyed.

She looked into his eyes for a long time and said, “I think I will have to purchase this one. Make a note for me Seb. I want to make this one mine.”

The man nodded and wrote down Holmes’ tag number.

They looked at one or two other slaves and then left for the lounge where the auction was to be held.

I think we all let out a collective sigh of relief at their exit.

Shortly there after other slaves entered and gave the slaves to be sold something to eat and drink. Some were lead off to relieve themselves. Others were taken care of.

I checked Holmes over. He did not seem any worse for wear. I gave him some water to drink.

“You all right?” I asked quietly.

He nodded.

“Who was that woman?”

“I do not know but I do know that I find her very interesting. There is something….off about her,” he said to me.

“Well she did a number on your backside,” I said trying to lighten the mood but failing miserably.

Mary did not look well.

She said, “I don't trust her Johan. Please be very careful. That woman has a lot of anger toward men and I am afraid she is going to take it out on you.”

Holmes looked at Mary and said, “How many days?”

“Sorry?”

“How many days have you felt ill?”

She looked at him briefly in astonishment and then went back to her usual face, “Nothing gets past you does it?”

“No and you haven’t answered my question.”

“The past several days I have been….uncomfortable. I put it down to all the travel and changes in diet and the like.”

“But now you think?”

She nodded.

“Have you told John?”

She shook her head no, “I didn’t want to until I was sure. I was going to wait another month to tell him then.”

“Tell me what?” I started to say but then it all fell into place in my head.

“You’re with child?” I said in astonishment.

“Seems so,” said Mary.

“I think congratulations are in order,” said Sherlock with a grin.

I hugged Mary and said, “I can’t believe it!”

“My blessings to you both. Now hush, the owners are coming to take their property.”

One by one the slaves were lead away by their new Masters.

Holmes was one of the last ones standing until the woman came in again with her manservant. He removed the sales collar and replaced it was one of finest leather. Holmes was allowed to dress and say his good-byes to us.

Mary hugged him and told him to be good.

I shook hands with him desperately wanting to do what Mary had done but knowing it would be a bad idea.

I looked at the collar around his neck and saw a brass plate with engraving that read “Property of J. M.”

It would be the last of Holmes I would see in quite some time.

Chapter Text

“When were you going to tell me?”

“Sorry?”

“When were you going to tell me that Mary was carrying twins?”

“How…No don’t tell me I won’t like the answer.”

I found myself sitting yet again across from Mycroft in the Diogenes Club. I thanked my lucky stars that I was not kneeling as I would not be responsible for my actions.

“Sherlock told me about his training including his overcoming certain…problems in the bedroom arena,” said Mycroft.

I looked at him carefully and said, “What do you want Mycroft? You don’t own me. My contract is with Sherlock. Mary’s contract is with Lady Forrester alone.”

Mycroft put his hand on a folder next to him, “Apparently you haven’t looked at your contract recently. Sherlock added a clause.”

I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, “I didn’t agree to any new clauses to my contract.”

He held up the gild edge contract that I had signed proclaiming myself the sole property of Sherlock Holmes as long as we both shall live almost a year ago.

“Do you know what a Legacy contract is?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know that Sherlock deeded your contract to me?”

“Upon his death Mycroft which, according to you, hasn’t happened yet.”

Mycroft picked up an envelope and handed it to me. On the front was a handwriting that I recognized as Sherlock’s. It said ‘To be opened only by John H. Watson’.

My Dear John,

If you are reading this then our plan succeeded and I am heaven knows where trying to keep us safe.

Per our agreement, I had to name an owner for you while I am away since our cover story for those in the Marketplace was that I have vanished on a case and presumed dead.

I have named Mycroft as my proxy as your owner. Now I know you are not happy with me but believe me when I tell you that it is for the best. He has promised a light hand and to allow you to live your life.

If you find yourself needing discipline to quiet that head of yours, I suggest that you give my brother another chance, as he can be quite creative. Please do not take his previous assault on your person as how he normally handles that sort of thing.

Please do listen to him John. He does have our best interests at heart.

Your obedient servant,

S. Holmes

“You have had this letter for over a month, why give it to me now? What has changed that you feel that I need to see this?”

Mycroft said quietly, “John, Mary may be carrying the Holmes heir in her womb. Any child she births is owned by both families until they reach majority and can decide their path. I know she had congress with Sherlock and is the first female to do so.”

The light dawned. Mary was with child and at the time of conception there were two men in her bed. Either of us could be the father to those children or both of us. Any child of Sherlock would be the heir to the Holmes legacy.

“Mary and you can raise the children John. I would not interfere with that but there will come a point where if it becomes apparent that one of those children is Sherlock’s issue…”

“I understand,” I said rather woodenly.

“John, you and Mary have given my family a great gift. The possibility to carry on our lineage and not have it fall by the wayside to a scion branch of the household. We owe you both a great debt.”

I knew that any children that Mary and I had would be not ours. We might be allowed to raise them if our masters permitted it. The rules were in our marriage contract.

“I understand Mycroft and I will obey as instructed.”

“Good man. Sherlock was most worried about your wellbeing.” He paused and weight his next words carefully, “He loves you John. He wanted to make sure that I told you that. And that you adore him is a good thing in my book.”

“I love him Mycroft with every fiber of my being. I thought after what happened to me in Afghanistan I would never feel the way I feel again much less to feel it so much stronger. I would do anything to keep him safe.”

“Which you have done an admirable job of,” said Mycroft, “I found that I didn’t have to worry about my brother knowing he was in your care and that was a great relief indeed. Thus another debt I owe you.”

I laughed, “Oh be careful Mycroft or I will end up owning you.”

He chuckled and then said with all seriousness, “Do you need some…assistance?”

I thought about the offer, “No, I think I am fine right now but I will keep it in mind.”

We shook hands and parted ways.

I went home to find Mary drinking her tea. The maid brought me mine and I sat down across from Mary.

“And how is Mycroft?” she asked.

“How the deuce did you figure that out?” I said.

“I had a conversation with my Mistress about the twins a couple of days ago.”

“That’s how he found out,” I said.

“She had some other news for me that impacts us greatly.”

“Oh?”

“The family is moving to India for a time.”

She let that sink in a bit waiting for me to catch up.

“And you need to go with them,” I said.

“We figure it will be shortly after the twins are born,” she said, “You know I must go John. If you could have gone with Sherlock, you would have in a heartbeat. I can no more give up my Mistress than you can your Master.”

“Who is G-d knows where doing G-d knows what,” I said bitterly “So I am to lose my best friend and my wife within the same year?”

“Yes John but it will give you the perfect excuse to move back to Baker Street and wait for him. And we both knew that this day was going to come at some point.”

“I know but…but I have grown fond of you Mary.”

“And I you John. We do still have about six to seven months before this is happens so let’s make the best and part as friends.”

I sighed a heavy sigh.

“And if you think about it when Sherlock gets back there are going to be no eyes looking the direction of a widower who lost his wife in childbirth and mourns them who is sharing rooms with his dear friend will there?”

She was right but it was a lot to take in.

My mind was in that dangerous place that I knew too well. I had to do something to release the tension building within me.

Mary gave me a hug and said, “I suggest you do what Sherlock ordered you to do. I do not think I am what you need right now.”

I nodded and called for the page to take a note to the Diogenes Club. He returned with the response “Tonight at the club 8 pm. Further instructions when you get here.”

I went to my offices and did some paperwork waiting for the clock to tick around to when I could leave for the club.

I arrived promptly at 8 and was escorted to a new wing of the club I had not been in before. I was taken to a changing room and handed a note.

“Strip and leave through the door with the circle on it. Then kneel and present, I will be with you shortly.”

I took strange comfort in those orders. I also noted that Mycroft’s handwriting looked a lot like Sherlock’s”

I did as I had been ordered. I went through the door and found myself in a room with all kinds of benches and apparatus some of which I recognized and others that were foreign to me.

There was a cushion in the middle of the room and light seemed to be streaming from above. I went to the cushion, knelt up and put my hands behind my head interlocking my fingers.

I could hear someone enter the room but I did not move. A blindfold was placed over my eyes.

“Wrists” came the command and I stretched my arms out. Leather encircled my arms and I took comfort in it.

“Stand with your feet a shoulder width apart.”

I complied with the order. Leather cuffs were put on my ankles. I could feel my member thickening but tried to think it away.

“No. Do not hide this from me,” said the voice as he grabbed my cock and tugged on it hard. It did nothing dissuade my erection.

“Arms out.”

I heard the jangling of chain just before I felt my wrists being clipped to the chains and my arms being raised towards the ceiling. My legs were chained to the floor so I did not have much movement.

“Ass out.”

I adjust my position as ordered. I heard the whistle of the whip before it kissed my rear.

I hissed in surprise.

The whipping was masterful. I gave into the burn of the strips and the coolness of the air and just when I thought I could not take enough, it stopped.

My arms were released as were my feet and I almost fell to the floor when I was caught and led over to a cot. My backside was tended to almost lovingly. I lay there just enjoying the silence in the room and in my head.

The blindfold was removed and I found myself looking at Mycroft sitting next to me on a stool.

“Better?”

I nodded not trusting my throat.

“Sherlock is right, you are a treasure,” He stroked my hair almost lovingly and then departed.

I went back to the changing room and put on my clothes then went home and fell into the best sleep I had in weeks and would have for some time.

Chapter Text

Mary never made it to India.

Our constructed story became all too real far too quickly.

The during the next five months life there was a certain ‘sameness’ to it. I attended my practice and did various extra jobs for Mycroft and other clients who were part of the Marketplace. I was making a nice sum from it.

It struck me that one of the reasons my offices were so busy and I was doing so well had to do with the absence of my Master. I have a feeling that Mycroft was working behind the scenes keeping me busy so I would not reflect on what I was missing with all my heart.

I will say that Sherlock was right and Mycroft had the heavy hand that I needed to keep my brain from spinning out of control.

Mycroft did me the kindness of sharing anything that he received about Sherlock’s whereabouts. We knew we were practically the only people we could talk to about this subject and out of that and our love of Sherlock came a friendship I never expected.

Mary continued to work for her Mistress. There was a lot of work to be done as the house was being packed away or sent to India ahead of them. She had been put in charge of getting the children ready for such a big change in their lives.

Mary and I found ourselves spending more evenings together and discovered that we both had a love of various board games which we played late into the night. I felt closer to her than I had before. If I were free and had more interest in women, I discovered that she would be my perfect partner. I knew she had affection for me as well. We were a splendid example of an arranged marriage that worked.

It was a dark and storm night that the twins were born. In fact it was a dark and stormy two days as the twins came into the world

Lady Forrester was in attendance as was Lord Willingham. I spent my time outside her door listening to her cries of pain. I grew concerned at the length of time this was taking. I wanted to go in the room and offer support but didn’t think it was my place.

Mycroft came by at one point and took me to my room then gave me a sound beating.

I was in the dining room when Lord Willingham came in and sat down. I could see the concern on his face. Lilly, the maid, brought him a bowl of stew and I poured him a glass of wine.

I opened with “It’s not going well is it?”

“John, I am not going to lie to you. It was going well but the longer she is in heavy labor, the worse this will become.”

“What’s the problem?”

“She is not dilated enough to deliver and until she is, those children are stuck. One is pushing against the other. They are not in the right position for an easy birth.”

“What is your biggest concern?”

“I have several that I could state but John you really don’t need me to tell you what might happen. You have delivered a number of babies in your time.”

“I need to see her.”

“I don’t know if…”

“She’s my wife and my friend. I know it was in name only but over time it has become more than that. I will never forgive myself if I don’t”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, “Come on then. Let’s see how it is going.”

We went into the room with a flash of lightening and a crash of loud thunder. In that brief blink of illumination I saw Mary clearly and I knew there was not going to be a happy ending to this.

She looked so tired and wane. Her color was almost grey. The nurses were doing what they could to keep her comfortable.

“John,” I heard her whisper.

I went to the bed, sat next to her, and took her hand in mine.

“I’m here Mary,” I said.

“I am so sorry,” she said.

I kissed her hand, “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

She gripped my hand very hard as a contraction passed through her body.

“William and James,” she said.

“Sorry?”

“I want you to name them William and James. You will know which needs what name when you see them. That’s my wish John. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

She grabbed my hand with her other hand and screamed while squeezing onto my hand.

“That’s it Mary,” said Lord Willingham, “I can see the crown of the head. Now push for all that you are worth.”

William came into the world first with James following quickly behind him. They both gave strong cries after entering the world. The nurses cleaned them up and swaddled them efficiently.

Mary continued to bleed profusely. They could not stop her hemorrhaging.

As the boys drew their first breaths, I felt Mary breath her last.

She died still holding onto my hand.

I watched as the light vanished from her eyes and I knew she was no more.

I heard Lady Forrester scream in agony at the sight of her love dead.

I stepped back and she came in and held her slave and her companion in her arms sobbing in despair.

I stepped back not knowing what to do. There was nothing I could do.

I felt someone touch my arm. I turned to see Wilson at my elbow.

“John, come with me.”

I left Mary’s mistress to her grief and followed Wilson into the nursery where the boys were feeding from a wet nurse that Mycroft had provided.

Wilson took the first babe and put it in my arms. I looked at the face and the nose and knew I was looking at the next Lord Holmes. He was the spitting image of my beloved Sherlock.

“Hello William,” I said. The babe opened his eyes and the blue eyes of my Master were looking back at me from the tiny face.

Wilson took the other babe and I could see myself in that face. He even had a thick head of my hair.

“Hello James.” The babe yawned and nodded off.

Mycroft entered the room and I passed William to him.

“I present to you William Holmes heir to all that entails.”

Mycroft looked at William with a look to awe and total love.

“He’s beautiful. He looks exactly like Sherlock did when he was born. But William? Really?”

“It was Mary’s last wish Mycroft. You said you owed me a debt then pay it by honoring the name she gave him on her deathbed.”

He looked at me and nodded. He passed William back to me and picked up James who was sound asleep.

“No doubt whose father is his,” said Mycroft, “he even has that sour look on his face that you have when you are perturbed.”

“You will do as you promised us and raise them together?”

“Yes. Are you wanting to be part of their lives?”

“No more than what we agreed to. I’ll be Uncle John to them. They will never know their real parentage.”

He nodded and said, “It shall be done.”

I went back to Mary’s room to find that they had cleaned the body up and the room. It looked like she was just asleep Her face looked so peaceful.

I went in and kissed her forehead.

“Mycroft agreed to the names Mary. They will always carry you with them. I shall miss you.”

“John you know that she did love you in her own way,” came a quiet voice that was choking back tears.

I turned and saw Lady Forrester sitting on Mary’s chair.

I stepped over to her and knelt in front of her. I bowed to her and said, “I am sorry for your loss Lady Forrester. If there is any service I can do…”

She placed her hand on the back of my neck, “Can you bring her back to me?”

“No Mistress”

“Then what good are you?”

“None Mistress.”

“Up.”

I did as commanded. She looked hard at me.

“You would let me beat you, wouldn’t you?”

“If that is what you want Mistress.”

“I would kill you in my anger which would not do either of us any good. Consider this our parting of ways. I do not wish to see or hear from you or your Master ever again. You will come to the funeral but will say nothing. You will not go to the burial which will be on my property. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes Ma’am,” I said.

“Go.”

I did as I had been ordered and went to my room.

I sat down on my bed and let all the feelings of sadness and angry out into the empty room. I could not even be allowed to morn my loss without strings attached.

And then there were the boys. Those two beautiful babes that would grow up not knowing their mother’s kind hand. I would not know my son except at a distance. He would never know that I was his father.

My life was shattering and I was splintering with it.

Chapter Text

Mary’s funeral was a nightmare.

Over all the service was very nice and lots of people had lots of lovely things to say about her and how she effected their lives. I heard stories of lives restored, friendships made, and her service to others.

Only about half of us knew what was meant by service.

Lord Willingham was there and he sat next to me supporting me through out.

As the coffin left the church, I walked out with it to people expressing their sympathies at my wife’s passing and the loss of my children as well.

It had been decided that the children would ‘perish’ as well to set up Mycroft’s claim on William. This was not too hard to do since he was presumed married to a lovely young lady who was ‘with child’ that could come any day now. The wife was one of his slaves under permanent contract with the family but she came from the upper class so it didn’t look too suspicious to the outside world. She served certain "needs" he had as well as playing the good wife.

I looked over at one point to Lady Forrester who was staring at me with such rage I felt that I could die on the spot. She blamed me for Mary’s condition as well as Sherlock and Mycroft. It was our fault she lost her slave.

Mary would be buried in the Forrester Family crypt awaiting her mistress to join her in the hereafter.

I felt like I was being buried alive. All that I knew that was good in my life had been torn away.

I was bereft of everything. I stepped into the carriage I was direct to and found myself taken to my house.

Mrs. Hudson took my hand and directed me inside. She led me up to the sitting room and made me sit down.

I sat staring at the fire with my mind a whirl.

At some point tea appeared at my elbow. I drank and ate what was put next to me.

Liam, my valet, came in and got me ready for bed. I was taken to my room upstairs and put to bed.

And it went like this for about a week. I grieved for my losses and others took care of me and kept an eye on me.

I had such strange dreams of people trying to keep me from injuring myself.

Then one morning I just got up on my own and got dressed. Went to the dining room and found my breakfast waiting.

Mrs. Hudson came in with the teapot, “Ah, there you are.”

“Sorry?” I said. My throat felt thick as I hadn’t said a word in about a week. I had cried, sob and screamed my sadness and rage but no human speech had escaped my lips.

“You vanished on us there for a bit. Mr. Holmes said to let you be for a while but today was the deadline before he had to take measures.”

“How did he….never mind I should know better than to try to figure out a Holmes.”

“Finish up your breakfast John and nice to have you back.” She gave me a rather motherly kiss on the head.

I went around to my surgery to find Leslie had keep things in fine condition. Wilson was in my office writing up notes for various cases he had done.

He looked up, saw me, and said, “Oh thank G-d John.”

He stood up and grabbed me into a bear hug.

I was stunned at the gesture.

“You don’t remember?”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s all right. I am glad to see you here again.”

“I honestly don’t remember much of the past week. If I did something…”

He shook his head, “No, no not that at all.”

Then it struck me. Those dreams might not have been dreams.

“What did I do?”

“John…” he tried to find the words.

“You tried to end it Doctor,” came a voice behind me.

I turned to find Mycroft lumbering into the room much to my surprise.

“You took your firearm, pressed it to your temple and, if Mrs. Hudson hadn’t happened to have walked into the room at that time, you would have pulled the trigger. There is a new bullet hole in the wall of your study that you might want to thank Mrs. Hudson for.”

“I…I have no memory of doing that.”

Wilson said, “I was afraid that might happen. John you were in a fugue state at the time. I don’t think you were thinking much of anything but ending whatever hell you had descended into.”

“I had Wilson sedate you and we kept someone with you at all times to keep you from doing something foolish.”

I looked confused.

“Sir, he doesn’t remember what you told him.”

“Hush!” came the command.

“Doesn’t remember what?” I asked, “What did you tell me that sent me over the cliff?”

I could feel the dread build in the pit of my stomach. On some level I did remember but I dare not think about it.

Mycroft sighed, “I told you that we lost Sherlock.”

My whole world collapsed and I found myself on the floor.

I stood up and said, “What do you mean lost him?” I went to military stance by instinct. My voice was not John Watson the slave but Captain John Watson the soldier.

“He was sold to a third party that we can not connect to any of the Marketplace owners and the people who bought him have vanished as well. They were there under aliases. The people they were thought to be were found dead and buried in their villa a week ago.”

“So let me see if I have this correctly Sir. Sherlock was sold to people under false pretenses who have vanished. He was sold again to G-d knows who and is G-d knows where? Do I have that correctly?” I bellowed.

Mycroft bowed his head slightly and said quietly, “Yes.”

“Well then, I’ll just have to go find him,” and I went upstairs to pack.

Chapter Text

Leaving was not as easy as packing my bag and running off to find my Master. I wish it had been but protocols had to be seen to and I needed some people to watch my back.

Much to my amazement, I received no resistance from Mycroft on my plan. In fact he helped me to get things in order so I could go.

I sold the house and surgery to Wilson. It was the best solution for my clients and me. They knew Wilson since he was the Doctor who took over when I was off gallivanting with Sherlock or ‘vacationing’ with Mary. Lord Willingham paid me a fair price for the whole thing. Mycroft’s slaves went back to his house as did Lady Forrester’s to hers.

I moved my few items that I had left in the house back to Baker Street and settled back in with Mrs. Hudson and Liam as my valet.

I had plenty of capital to spend on this venture between the monies for the sale to Wilson, the monies from my house for my sales, and the rather large bequest from my original Master. I put this in Mycroft’s hands so he could get me the funds I needed along the way.

The story we present to the public was that I was in mourning for the loss of my wife and children so I was going to the continent to travel and clear my head.

I started my search in Italy at the very same villa were the Marketplace owners, the Medici who were descendants of the great Lorenzo de’Medici of Florence, had been found murdered. Mycroft had bought the place for a steal and sealed it so that any clues to be found would be there.

I didn’t have much to go on except that I had seen the people who bought Sherlock with my own eyes, a name that was said ‘Seb’ and the initials J. M. that were on the collar that was put around Sherlock’s neck before he left.

I let my beard grow and had Liam carefully shape it for me. I had lost weight after Mary’s death and Sherlock’s loss because I had no interest in eating. Mycroft’s tailor created suits for me that changed the shape of my silhouette so I looked taller. By the time I got to the villa, my mother would have been hard pressed to pick me out of a crowd.

I picked the name James Williams after my sons also it allowed me to use anything I had that was monogramed with a JW. Mycroft provided me with servants for the villa that were owned by the Holmes family and knew how to keep their mouths shut unless I wanted them to feed information into the community.

We established that Mr. James Williams was a widower who had come to Italy for his nerves and health. We made him an invalid with various medical issues, which allowed me to move around without too much trouble. As Mr. Williams I bundled up and was pushed around in a wheel chair or walked with two canes.

The servants managed to discover, with a little bit of money to help, quite a bit about the owners of the villa and the strange goings on at the villa. There had been wild parties with lots of food and drink. The orgies were legendary as foreigners came to the villa to partake in forbidden fruit. There were stories about secret rooms with objects of pain and pleasure being used on the flesh. Their hedonism was well know and the gossip of the town but they had money and most of the town’s businesses had depended on them for their income.

Suddenly they vanished until the bodies had been found by the local constable who had gotten complaints about the smells that came wafting down wind. Not only had the owners been found but the bodies of eight other men and women had as well. Mycroft managed to get the names of the slaves and we got the bodies to the families or what remained.

Apparently this all went horribly wrong when two Englishmen had moved in with the Medici. One man was described as tall and broad shouldered with a military bearing. The other man was smaller, slightly older than the first, and walked with a cane. They had heard the men call each other Jim and Seb but no surnames were given. Seb was assumed to be Jim’s servant and bodyguard because he called Jim Sir when addressing him.

The orgy the last night anyone had seen the Count and his wife alive had taken a twist in which all the men were dressed as women and the women like men. The women were given dildos and harnesses and were encouraged to bugger the men, which they did quite enthusiastically. The evening ran late and the next day people staggered out of the villa back to their own lodgings.

That no one came out of the villa the next couple of days was not unusual. It wasn’t until a week passed that the smell alerted people that something was wrong.

It was whispered that when they found the Count and his wife that his cock had been cut off and sew onto her and they were found buried in an embrace with his cock up his own ass. There were other stories of what had been done to the servants who were killed and the wounds that were found on the bodies.

We found their Marketplace paperwork in a secret safe that we found by accident. Along with that was a ledger with initials and dates and amounts. Apparently they had been selling their slaves to other people who were not vetted by the Marketplace and the orgies were a way for them to get the slaves off with their new owners. Lord knows what they told those poor people. We also discovered how much in debt the household was. JM kept coming up in the ledger as someone who bought a lot from them and lent them large amounts of money. They were indebt to him for an absurd amount of money.

It was totally by accident that I found buried in the back of a drawer a torn piece of a letter of introduction that had a name on it, Sebastian Moran. This had to be Seb that was at the auction.

Mycroft had his minion’s do some research and I learned of the military career and downfall of one Colonel Sebastian Moran who was a sniper extraordinaire and a hunter of some note. It was not pretty. In fact, he had been in Afghanistan the same time I had been but by that point he was working for someone else as a hired gun and assassin.

I noticed that last part of the file was missing. I contacted Mycroft to get the rest of it. He sent back a summery of what the government thought Moran was doing in Afghanistan at the time. There was a list of targets that they suspected that he has shot. Among the names was one that was all too familiar to me and made this even more personal, Lord Barton my first owner but even more startling was my own name Captain John Watson.

I took the anger I felt as I finally had a name to attach to my pain and pulled it in to myself and turned the hot rage into cool resolve that I would be the one to put a bullet in the head of Moran.

I had a name to start my search for Sherlock. Mycroft started working his magic with his spy network. Finally we had a rumor that might be more than just a whisper on the wind. They had been spotted in Russia.

I kitted myself out and left for the frozen tundra that was Siberia.

Chapter Text

Mycroft was invaluable in getting me into Russia and posted to the Tzesarevich Nicholas II’s entourage as an English doctor. He also sent me one of his slaves that spoke most of the various languages both Russia and China who acted as my translator and was totally loyal to Mycroft.

Nicholas was going across Russia to see how the trans-Siberian railroad was doing since there were conflicting reports of how much work was actually done.

I settled into my duties and continued to look for anything that might lead me to Holmes.

I found the people friendly enough although a bit distant and the weather was bone chilling.

It was by accident I got my next lead.

We were in Krasnoyarsk at the home of one of the leading businessmen in the area. He worked very hard to make his manor to look as European as possible. He spoke English rather well and we had discussions about various topics while I was there.

He held a ball for the Tzesarevich and all the local rich and nobles attending.

The party was in full swing and I had gotten off to an alcove to catch my breath as I had been dancing with various ladies all evening. I heard two men talking in English, which got my attention immediately.

“Did you find out where the party was this time? I need to get my cock into some warm wetness to keep it from freezing off?”

“According to Alexia it will be in three days time in Verkhoyansk.”

“That ass end of nowhere? Why? You can’t get it up with all the ice that surrounds the town.”

“Sebastian said that Jim figured it would be the last place anyone would have an orgy so it would be the best place for it. And fortunate for us that Nicholas’ itinerary puts right there the day of the party. We slip off and have our fun. Then be back before anyone is the wiser.”

“I’ll tell Mikhail and Sasha. They would be up for some fun after this dry spell we have been forced on.”

“Good. I’ll tell them we are attended their soirée.”

I went back to my room rather than the dancing. My legs were shaking.

Here it was. I heard the names I have been searching for. But it was this too easy? I heard what I have wanted to hear. I felt like I was walking into a trap but what other choice did I have.

I composed a cryptic letter to Mycroft that read like I was catching him up on my travels and what I had seen. But the underlying message was giving him the information of where I was and where I was going.

Then I began to plan how I was going to join in the festivities safely.

It was to be a masked ball and the participants had their masks delivered to their rooms in the hotel we were at.

I managed to slip a soporific into the glass that Sasha had been drinking. He was my size and build. He staggered up to his room to get ready only to find me and my waiting needle to finish the job. I lay him out on his bed so he could sleep it off.

I had already put on his formal clothes and the mask. Our hair color was close enough that unless you really looked, you would not be able to tell there had been a switch. I had shaved to match his moustache and beard

Considering how much the men I was with had to drink, I was not worried about being discovered causally.

We snuck out the back to a waiting carriage.

One of the men, Anatole I believe, complained about something in Russian only to have his head smacked by Alexi.

“English only you pig. You know the rules and I am not getting tossed out because you can’t follow them.”

There were apologies that followed and we were whisked away out of the town for a ways to a large foreboding looking manor.

We walked into a large ball room lit by torches and the fireplaces that were going great gusto to give the entire room an eerie glow. There were areas of cushions with short tables with various items on them. The servants were naked except their masks and their bodies painted vivid colors except the breasts and private areas which shown out in their starkness. There was no hair in the nether regions giving a more youthful look the servants than they were. We were offered drink and food which we partook in. At various places in the room I saw people tied in all kinds of positions but in each the sex was exposed for all to see.

I took the lead of my fellow party goers and went around the room examining each of the displays. I didn’t see Holmes much to my dismay. I heard the occasional slap of hand on skin followed by an admonishment to wait until it was time to start.

The crowd was winding up when a gong was heard and everyone’s attention went to the double doors opposite from the doors we entered.

Music was heard as the doors opened. A minuet was playing and four strapping slaves were carrying a chair on which was lounged a women in a diaphanous gown that covered her from wrist to ankle.

All went down on one knee and bowed to her as she passed.

She was taken to a round dais that was situated in the middle of the room.

“Welcome,” she said, “And thank you for coming. I know this was a little out of the way but I assure you it will be worth the trip. You know the rules and have agreed to abide by them. At the end of the evening if you wish to purchase our merchandize that we have on display, please see Seb or Thomas for purchase price and papers. Now please enjoy the delights we have provided.”

It was like a pack of wolves had been given permission to feed. They leapt onto the restrained individuals with such violence it was appalling. I heard the sounds of floggers and whips, hands and the wet slap of skin on skin as some were being used in the most base manner possible. My group had fixated on a young woman who was tied to a base with her legs wide. She had a ring gag in her mouth allowing full access to her throat. Quickly she was being taken from front and back at the same time. I heard gagged noises arising from the assault and just as I was about to step in, Alexia stepped in and dragged Anatole off.

“You kill her, you bought her and we will be out on our asses never to be invited again and I will kill you.”

Anatole shrunk back and the next person in line entered her mouth. But he continues to pull on his cock until he came all over her back. He then picked up a flogger and proceeded to beat her while she was being used.

Alexia waited his turn and then took her ass hard. They all pulled out leaving her dripping with cum out of all her orifices and gasping for breath.

“Sasha not playing today?” asked Mikhail.

Alexia laughed, “Not with the female of the species but he will play when we find the right subject and he finds the right blade.”

They went off to drink and eat and I examined the woman in front of me. I gave her some water and told her in a low voice to rinse and spit. I checked over and loosened her bonds to allow some circulation.

I stood up to find myself looking right at Sebastian Moran who snapped his fingers and I was grabbed and hustled out of the room into an anteroom.

He grabbed the mask off my face as my arms were bent uncomfortably against my shoulder blades.

“Well, well Dr. John Watson as I live and breath. I can take two guesses why you are here and I only really need one. I am looking forward to my second attempt to end your life. I think this one might go a little smoother. However if you had done the manly thing and offed yourself, I would have accepted that as a victory.”

He grabbed my chin in his hand and looked into my eyes, “Make Dr. Watson uncomfortable as possible. I am going to get Jim. He’ll want to see that that his trap worked just as he planned.”

They stripped me and tied me tight to a large wooden chair with arms. I couldn’t even wiggle.

Then the hostess of the party entered and saw me tied to the chair.

“Well, well look what the cat dragged in. Good work Tiger.”

She held out a hand to me and said, “I am afraid we were never properly introduced, my name is James Moriarty and I have gone to a lot of trouble to get you right where you are slave.”

My heart sunk as I realized that my instinct of a trap was correct and I was seriously in the thick of it.

Chapter Text

I looked very carefully at the woman in front of me and the hand they extended. It took me a bit to sort out whether I was looking at a woman or a man. The hand was soft and well manicured. The face had no beard shadow but a hint of a moustache however no more than I had seen in my female patients over the years. She was wearing a high collar, which did not allow me to examine whether she had an Adam’s apple. There was just something about her that didn’t sit right with my eye.

She walked around my chair looking over my body with great scrutiny. She poked where the bullet had gone into and out of my shoulder rather hard.

I could not help but let out a gasp.

She turned to Moran and said, “I can see why you missed. He is quite lovely.”

Moran straightened up and said, “I didn’t miss. I was distracted. I got the target. He was to be collateral damage.”

She went and grabbed him by the balls hard. I saw him wince but not make a sound.

“I told you to KILL him. How do you know that Lord Barton had not confided in his slave what he suspected? You saw his file. You know his loyalty and record of service. He’s a loose end and the fact he ended up with a Holmes is high suspect especially since he is HERE NOW.”

“My apologies Sir,” came the reply through tight lips.

“I don’t want your apology. I want you to do your job,” Moriarty spit in his face.

Moran did not move even when his privates were released.

“Or are you here to find your Master? Hmmmm….questions upon questions.”

Moriarty grabbed my face in both hands and looked at me hard. My ears rang from the slap that was delivered when she was done looking at me.

“Well Slave? Why are you here?”

I kept quiet knowing that anything I said would not go well. I had seen unhinged people like Moriarty before.

She grabbed my balls and twisted hard. I yelped involuntarily at the painful sensation. Tears flowed from my eyes rather freely.

“He’s not going to tell you anything,” said Moran, “I know his type.”

“You Are his type Seb,” she let go of me and I sagged in the chair.

She walked behind me and ran a finger lightly over my shoulder. I could not suppress the shiver that went through my body.

“Very responsive. Oh I could have so much fun with you but I have a party to attend right now. We’ll have to pick up the conversation later. Cage this lost puppy and I’ll put him through his paces.”

Seb cleared his throat carefully.

“WHAT?”

“He’s part of Nicholas’ entourage. His absence will be noticed immediately. Apparently Nicholas thinks the world of his English physician.”

She punched Seb in the gut and he doubled over.

“Always ruining my fun my tiger. How many times have I told you….No, I apologize Seb that was uncalled for. Thank you for bringing that to my attention.”

She grabbed his head and kissed him then forced him to his knees.

“You are such a good boy and always have my best interests at heart. You are my good boy?”

Seb nodded and looked at her with such love and adoration. I had a feeling that is the way I looked at Sherlock when in the same position. He was her abject slave in all things.

She came back over to me and grabbed my nipples hard. She pinched and pulled at them bring them to hard points. She stepped back and admired her handy work.

“Very responsive. I can see why Sherlock screams your name. Too bad he isn’t doing much screaming these days.”

I found myself straining to get out of the ropes that bound me to the chair.

“Hit a nerve did I? Oh I think you would be most surprised how well Sherlock took to his training once we convinced him to do so. Something about threatening those he holds dear I think was a big help.”

I growled my frustration but still didn’t say a word.

“Loyal to a fault,” she said walking behind me.
She grabbed my hair and hissed in my ear, “Tell Mycroft that his little brother is safe but will only remain there if he backs off. And I strongly suggest you toddle back to England to find yourself a new Master since your present one is in no condition to take care of himself much less you.”

She pointed to the other men in the room, “Dress him and get him back to the hotel. Bring me Anatoly, he has a lot to answer for.”

I felt a needle being pushed into the vein of my arm and as I was falling into the dark abyss I saw a woman in a green ball gown being pulled into the room by the leash on her collar. The leash was handed to Moriarty who pulled the poor girl to her knees.

Moriarty grabbed the collar and forced the woman to look at me.

“See who came to see you my dear. Too bad. I am going to have to punish you for his impudence.”

I looked at the face and saw the eyes of my Master staring at me vacantly and I knew no more.

Chapter Text

I found myself back in the desert with the heat and my clothes sticking to my body. I saw my first Master get shot over and over again. Each time I was just too late to save him or at least take the bullet for him. Somewhere in this Lord Baron morphed into Holmes and I could do nothing to save him either. I could see Moran take the shot and the body go down hitting the rocks hard. Blood everywhere.

But there were times, while I was trapped in this nightmare, that I heard other voices speaking in strange languages. I could feel cold water being put to my lips and the encouragement to drink. I did what I could for the voices but it was very hard. I tried to tell them that I could hear them. I tried to get up only to be restrained.

Then I opened my eyes and found myself looking at a rather lovely fresco of cherubs dancing around. I tried to swallow but it felt like I had ingested the desert down my throat. I tried to move but my limbs felt like lead.

I heard a voice off to my right say, “Dr. Watson?”

I tried to answer but could only carefully nod. My head felt like it might break if I moved it too quickly.

“Oh thank G-d!”

Dmitri, Mycroft’s man, came into my line of sight and said again, “Oh thank G-d! We thought we had lost you to the poison but somehow you are still here.”

He picked up a glass of water and assisted me in getting a little down my throat.

“Take it slowly.”

“Poison?” I finally croaked out.

“I found you outside in the snow in great pain. You apparently had wandered out of the house after consuming some port that had been tampered with. The Tzesarevich’s valet recognized the symptoms of the poison. It was lucky that you did so. The lower temperature kept the poison from killing you outright. Apparently this was an attempt on the Tzesarevich’s life that you were accidently caught up in since his love of fine port is well know.”

“And I am very grateful for your service Dr. Watson,” said Nicholas stepping into my field of vision.

“Sire.” I said. Words were starting to come out of my mouth again.

“First for your medical advice that you gave me that has helped my ‘problem’ and now this. You are a treasure indeed. Your Master must be very proud of you.”

“Sire?” Apparently the same words kept coming out of my mouth with different inflections.

“I know you are owned John. It is obvious to anyone who is part of the Marketplace. Mycroft Holmes told me why he put you with my entourage. And you have not only served me but Mother Russia as well.”

I had no idea what Mycroft had told Nicholas and I was not about to inquire but instead nodded.

He stayed until his own physician had checked me over. I was instructed to rest and given a series of instructions to follow.

After he left I motioned to Dmitri to help me sit up. He did as I asked him to.

“Where are we?”

“Vladivostok on the eastern end of Russia right above Korea and China.”

“How long?”

“Since I found you? Almost two weeks. We were in Verkhoyansk for about a week before we could move on with the tour to here.”

“What was the delay?”

“First Prince Anatoly and his friends were killed in a carriage accident coming back from a night of carousing and then Prince Sasha was killed in a hunting accident two days later.”

Moriarty was leaving no loose ends apparently that I might follow.

“Help me up.”

“Sir, you must rest,” he said trying to get me to lay down again.

“I order you to help me up,” I said in a very controlled voice.

“Sir” he said and did as I asked.

I stood on will power alone as my legs felt like water. I took a couple of steps with his assistance and then motioned to get back to the bed. I found myself drifting back to sleep but not before Dmitri got some water and pills into me.

The next week was all about recovery. I worked very hard to get myself back to something close to normal.

Nicholas had done me one favor and announced that I had died due to an attempt on his life. I later found out he did this at Mycroft’s behest. I had to vanish.

I hoped that my funeral was nice but that was not my focus. I had to find out where Sherlock was now and rescue him from that mad woman.

The lack of recognition in his eyes haunted me both awake and asleep. What had been done to him to bring him to that point? And what punishment did he have to endure for my finding Moriarty?

I grew out my beard and hair to the point where I was pulling it back with a hair tie. I used the dark henna trick Mary had taught me to give my hair a brownish/ black tint. My weeks as an invalid had taken any extra weight off my body. I was probably leaner than any other time in my adult life.

The waiting was the hardest part. I had nowhere to go since I was a dead man.

Finally one of Mycroft’s minions heard a rumor related to Moran.

As I read between the lines of the telegram my stomach fell to my knees.

I had to go back where this all began.

I pack my bag, thanked Dmitri for his service and sent him back to Mycroft, then started my trip to Kabul, Afghanistan where I hoped to find my answers to the list of questions that I had been tallying.

Chapter Text

Getting to Kabul took much longer than I would have liked. It took me almost two months to get there. My fear was that Moriarty’s moving feast would have gone onto it next stop or that Moran was sent there for Moriarty’s sick plan and Sherlock was in France or Germany or Turkey or G-d knows where.

Mycroft seemed to be of the opinion that Moran was still there. His spies had been carefully following him. So far none had been killed. However several British diplomats had been killed in incidents with the rebels and trouble was brewing, which Mycroft took as a sign that Moriarty was still in the area as well.

I had changed my appearance so much that I didn’t feel the need to sneak around looking over my shoulder. I took the dress of the natives and hid among Mycroft’s people. To get to Kabul, I found myself wandering around with a tribe of Pashtun rebels through the north of India going as far as Tibet and then back to Afghanistan. They were collecting hashish and other opiates to sell for their cause from various places along our path.

The chief of this group had great loyalty to Mycroft and the Marketplace but none for England who he saw as the oppressor. I had to say that he did change my thinking about why the English were there. He gave me use of one of his body slaves to both take care of me and give me some standing among his men. After a few knife fights, I had earned both his and his tribes respect. He made sure that I had the pick of the horses he had bred. I found a good mare I named Lucy who was not the biggest horse but she was one of the fastest I had ever seen.

I started to feel comfortable in my place with them. It was much like the army in that they treated me as a comrade rather than just a slave. But I knew who I was as did the chief.

One night found the two of us lounging in his tent. His favorite slave was sucking his cock while we were talking.

“I have some information and possible good news for you John but I fear that if I give you this news, our journey will be at an end.”

“What news is that?”

“I ask a boon first friend John.” He pulled the slave off his cock by his collar and pushed him aside. The slave went to his hands and knees with his mouth open waiting for his next order.

The chief pointed to his crotch and said, “Mycroft says that you have a magic mouth and I wish to experience this before you leave me.”

I weighed my options and decided that getting the Chief to climax was not the worse things he could have had me do for the information.

I nodded and knelt in front of the man. I took just the tip into my mouth and used my tongue to taste him. I could feel his cock jump at my touch. Then I slowly fellated him using all the tricks I had been taught. At some point he had snapped his fingers I could feel hands shifting my trousers and removing my rather hard cock from its confinement. I could feel lips upon my cock and I moan letting the sound travel down the chief’s cock. It didn’t take much longer before he came and I came.

I sat back and the slave put me back together then put his master back together.

The chief’s eyes were glazed over with the look of pleasure and satisfaction. Once he had pulled himself back together he said, “Mycroft underestimates your abilities my friend. You must teach my slave how you did that.”

“I will do as you ask,” I said with a smile. I could see the slave peeking up at me and I saw a shiver run through his body at the thought.

“Now for the information I have for you. We are to deliver our wares to the Tiger in Kabul for his Master the Spider.”

He could see the light dawn in my eyes as my targets had re-appeared.

“I am sorry that this will be our parting of ways John. Remember that if you ever need any of the tribe’s assistance or anyone we are allied with, you just have to show them this dagger.”

He motioned and another slave came forward with an ornate box which he opened revealing a curved dagger inlayed with gold and jewels. I could see the tribal chop working into the handle quite cleverly.

“Sir this is a great honor,” I said picking up the dagger. It felt good in my hand.

He stood up and hugged me, “You have become like a son to me. I wish you success on your journey but I will miss your comradely and conversation.”

“I will miss you as well my friend,” I said, “Sweet water to you and your tribe.”

He kissed me on both cheeks and sent me on my way. I spent most of the rest of the night with his slave giving him the finer points of oral sex for both sexes since he also serviced the Chief’s wives.

The next day I strapped the knife to my leg beneath my clothing. I got Lucy ready to ride and followed Janan one of the chief’s sons and his right hand man in the drug trade.

We rode and camped outside Kabul waiting for the Tiger to join us for the transaction.

Janan and I went into town with two of his friends. We worked our way through the markets and the like until we came to a hotel. We were looked upon suspiciously but not asked to leave as Janan was dressed as the tribal prince he was. A man was waiting for us and informed us that the local baths might be a good place for us to go and relax before meeting with his Master.

We could read through the code and knew that the meeting had been moved to the baths. Strategically it was a good move. No weapons could be brought in the conversation. But it was not such good news to me. If Moran was there, he knew about the mark on my shoulder he had made with his gun.

I found myself sitting outside the baths with Zaram playing a game of dice that we both loved. I was losing to his skills for a while before my luck changed and I found myself owning a set of camels and two breeding horses.

Janan came out and motioned to us. We fell into step with him.

“He is coming to the camp tonight to bring the payment and collect the goods. We agreed that he can bring four men with him but I expect treachery on his part. I will put our men around the camp to protect us but I think this may be your only chance. I leave the planning to you and know my sword is yours to command.”

We went back to the camp and worked to make sure that we could not be ambushed.

I stood behind Janan with my head scarf wrapped also around my face.

Moran entered on a fine Arabian Horse with four men and several mules with chests and bags strapped to them. His men removed their burden and open them for Janan’s inspection.

He motioned to me to examine chests with him.

“This is acceptable,” he said after checking through the chests.

He motioned to his men to bring forward the drugs we had collected. Moran pulled out a knife and sampled the product.

“Good,” he said and his men loaded the bags on the mules they had brought.

“Now,” said Janan, “Let us have a drink to celebrate the conclusion of our business.”

He gestured to his tent, “And I think I have a treat for you as well.”

Moran smiled an evil smile and said, “The boy you told me about at the baths?”

Janan nodded.

Moran followed him eagerly into the tent.

There was one of Janan personal slaves strapped face up on a bench with a ring gag in his mouth.

I saw Moran’s eyes light up at the site in front of him.

His focus on the body in front of him made it possible for me to take a swing before he realized there was danger. He fell to the ground insensate.

Zaram popped his head in and said, “We have rounded up the rest. It was ten men total. Not very sporting if you ask me.”

Janan said, “Blindfold, gag, and restrain them. Put them in the horse corral until our business is done here.”

He handed me a knife and said, “I hope you get the answers you are looking for.”

He untied the young slave and helped me put Moran in his place tying him painfully tight to the bench after undressing him.

He patted me on the back and said, “Be careful my friend. The Tiger is not to be taken lightly.”

“I know that better than most,” I said.

He laughed and snapped his fingers. His slaves followed him out of the tent leaving me alone with Moran.

I sat on a stool next to his head waiting for his eyes to open.

I didn’t have too long to wait. I let him take in the position he was in.

“So Moran, we have a number of things to talk about. I would like to start with the topic of where is Moriarty?”

He showed me his teeth and said, “Go fuck yourself, you Pashtun dog.”

I took the knife and did a shallow cut on his chest just below his left nipple.

He grunted but did not cry out.

“All right, let’s try another question, where is Sherlock Holmes?” I removed the head scarf and showed him my face.

It was then he really looked at me and saw me for who I was.

“Take your time. I have all night and a lovely sharping stone took keep the edge on the blade.”

I ran the blade down his chest to his cock, “And plenty of room to work with.”

And for the first time I saw true fear in his eyes.

Chapter Text

Contrary to popular believe a masochist does not enjoy all forms of pain. There is the pain we find erotic that can send us sailing on a sea of pleasure. But there is other pain, which is not fun or erotic. There is a world of difference between a fine beating and stubbing ones toes. There is the pain of discipline, which can be pleasurable, but more often than not is teaching. And there is pointless pain. Pain that just hurts and confuses and makes one very pliable.

Getting Moran to feel the pointless form of pain was an interesting exercise indeed.

Moriarty was right. Sebastian and I did share a lot of common traits as submissive masochist so I knew where to go to make sure I had his attention.

And his attention I did have.

I learned a couple of new swear words from the litany that came pouring from his lips. He excoriated my parents, Mary, my previous Master, my looks, my abilities as a torture, which he did take back in the end, and anything else he thought he might get to me with.

I think to his surprise and I will admit a little to my own, it didn’t work. I was focused on my task at hand and nothing was going to deter me.

After two days he came to realize that I very well might kill him and preservation took over.

Moriarty was in Northern India in Rampur awaiting Moran’s return with the drugs and some new slaves that he had brokered.

As to where Holmes was, Moran was steadfast in his belief that he did not know. He had been sold to a Turkish potentate but had been returned to Moriarty after a bad debt on the Turk’s part but Moran hadn’t seen him since Sherlock had been returned. He swore this up and down no matter how I tried to trick him.

I asked him about the woman that was with Moriarty in Russia. I describe what I had seen to Moran right before I passed out.

It was if a light dawn and he said, “Shirley, you saw Shirley. Jim’s personal slave. Jim is the only one that gets to touch her. If you try, you will find yourself missing a hand or something more important.”

He thrust his hips in case I didn’t get the joke.

It didn’t make any sense to me. I could swear that I saw Sherlock but maybe it was what I wanted to see.

“Well maybe we should go have a conversation with Jim to find out what happened to Sherlock Holmes,” I said.

He laughed a derisive laugh, “I would like to see you try. Jim will have your balls in hand and it won’t be pleasant.”

With the help of Janan’s body slaves, I bandaged up all the wounds that I had inflicted on Moran. Then had the blacksmith forge shackles and chains so he couldn’t run away. We made a travois and attached it to one of the pack horses. I locked him to the sled and wrapped him up and tied him down so he could not even wiggle.

Zaram and Pason agreed to come with me so we could deliver the drugs to Moriarty along with Moran.

It took us almost two weeks to get to Rampur. After a day of Moran yelling at us and making noise that could cause us problems with other tribes, I gagged him. That left him with just glaring.

Every night we would let him up and walk around. Then we would spike and lock him securely and take turns keeping an eye on him.

I changed his bandages once a day.

The longer we went, the more docile he seemed to become but I didn’t trust him an inch.

The first escape attempt broke Zaram’s arm. I broke Moran’s leg and then strapped it up in a splint.

The second attempt he blooded Pason. I broke his fingers on his left hand and threatened his trigger finger if he tried anything else.

After that Zaram came up with the perfect solution, we drugged him. We had all the opiates at our disposal, why not use them.

Moran spent most of the rest of the trip in a drugged stupor.

Once we got to the outskirts of Rampur, I sent Pason to scout out if Moriarty was still in the city.

He came back with news that did not fill my heart with joy.

“Moriarty is getting ready to leave. Apparently he is going to go find out what happened to Moran who is a week over due for return. Apparently the men he sent to get him information didn’t return either.”

“Thank you Janan,” I said.

I left them in charge of Moran who was singing about caterpillars turning into butterflies.

When I asked Moran was he was on about he giggled and said, “That’s what Jim does. Takes lowly caterpillars and turns them into beautiful butterflies.”

I had no idea what he was talking about but it did not leave me with a good feeling.

I dressed in the fine robes that Janan had given me and placed the dagger out where anyone could see it. I had my headscarf firmly in place with the lower half drawn across my face. I rode Lucy to the compound where Pason had said Jim was staying.

I told the boy at the door to tell Moriarty that I had news of his Tiger who had been lost.

I found myself ushered in to a large ornate room with western style furniture. I noticed there was blood on the floor in the corners that hadn’t been cleaned up yet.

“I understand you have tidings of my lost Tiger,” I heard a voice say.

I turned about and found myself face to face with Moriarty but this time the clothing Jim was wearing was for a man. He looked like a small, slim, middle-aged man with a shaved head and face.

“Yes Sir,” I said using very heavily accented English, “He came to our camp to buy good from us.”

“Did he leave?”

“Let’s say he met with misfortune.”

I swear I saw his eyes flash red with anger.

“What sort of misfortune and do understand I will kill you if you are lying.”

I said, “Doctor John Watson.”

“Ah, that is misfortune indeed,” he said taking a plumb from the bowl, “How did Dr. Watson find out about this transaction.”

I shrugged.

“So where is he?”

“Who?”

“Moran. Where is he Dr. Watson?”

I grinned and pulled down my scarf so he could see my face, “Safe for the moment as are your drugs. But we shall have to see how long either remain so.”

“What do you want in trade?”

“You know what I want.

“I want to hear you say it,” he purred.

“Sherlock Holmes,” I said.

“I find it amazing as to your loyalty to a man who has never done right by you. This is the second time you have picked poorly for men to master you. I don’t think they even knew the exquisite beast that they owned. And you are magnificent Dr. Watson. And funny that both of them died at my hand or rather my orders. Well one dead and the other…..” he chuckled an evil chuckle, “let’s say that Sherlock Holmes the man is dead.”

“I saw him,” I said.

“Where?”

“In Russia right after you poisoned me.”

“I do admit to being surprised that you survived that. All reports of your death were quite touching. I read them to Shirley. She wept for your demise but then I think she has such feelings for you. I know after she finally figured out who came to visit, she was very upset. She will be glad to know you are alive.”

He rang a bell and said, “Have Lucus bring Shirley to me and make sure she is dressed in her best. She has company to entertain.”

I shivered but did not know why.

“So while we wait care to tell me where Moran is?”

“Safe for now and mostly intact.”

“What did you do?” He shrieked at me. When his voice pitched up, I could see the woman I met before.

“Let’s say it took a bit of doing to get the information of your whereabouts from him. He is such a loyal slave. Then he had a few ‘accidents’ along the journey back.”

The shade of red that his face was turning I knew as a Doctor was not a good sign of his health. He stood up and clenched his fist. I thought he might strike me but instead he took a few deep breaths and sat down.

“Well played Dr. Watson,” he said, “Not many can do what you just did. Now what do you want for him and my drugs?”

“Simply Sherlock Holmes,” I said, “No more. No less.”

He laughed, “That may be more complicated that you think. I do not have Sherlock Holmes in my possession nor does anyone else.”

I felt my gut grow cold and this time I had to control myself from beating Moriarty into a pulp.

“Ah Shirley, here you are,” he said as he stood and held his hand out.

In walked a very tall slender woman well dressed in a blue silk gown with lovely embroidery. Her hair and make-up where in western style. Around her neck was a fine delicate metal collar and at her wrists were metal cuffs. I was betting if I looked under the dress, there would be cuffs around her ankles as well. She walked over to Moriarty and knelt next to him with her hands crossed behind her back and her head down.

He kissed the top of her head, “We have a visitor my dear one. You remember Dr. Watson?”

She shivered and shook her head ‘no’.

“Are you sure?”

She shook her head harder. I could tell she was terrified.

“Maybe you should go greet him properly.”

She shook her head. He slapped her with a ringing slap that echoed through the hall.

“Shall we try that again. Maybe you should go greet him properly.”

She got on all fours and crossed to me. She raised one hand not looking at me and placed it on my crotch.

I looked at the hand on my crotch. Then my world came crashing in.

There was a scar across the knuckles of the hand that was very distinctive. I knew that scar all too well having stitched it up and kissed it so many times in the past.

“Would Sir like me to perform oral sex on him?” The voice was throaty but pitched high to sound like a parody of a woman’s voice.

“Sherlock?” I said taking the head bowed down and forcing it up to face me.

She shivered and tried to pull away.

I looked into her eyes no his eyes because on the floor in front of me was what was left of my Master Sherlock Holmes.

I looked at Moriarty who said, “I told you Sherlock wasn’t here anymore. I have changed him and made him better. I took this ugly thing and made her a beauty of both body and soul. Who’s your Master Shirley?”

Shirley turned and looked at Moriarty with fear and adoration, “You are Sir.”

He motioned to his crotch and she scuttled over and proceeded to perform oral service on him while I, stunned into nothingness, watched.

“Now,” he said as he stroked Shirley’s hair, “What are we going to do about Moran? I would like all my property back.”

I could not think. My brain was on fire as I watched my Master subjugate himself.

What had Moriarty done to him?

“Dr. Watson, care to join the conversation, Moran I want him back,” said Moriarty as he choked Shirley on his cock while he came. She tidied him up and knelt next to his chair with eyes on the floor. But I noticed that there were some careful looks at me. Maybe all was not as lost as I thought.

“All your property for her,” I said pointing at Shirley.

He laughed, “You want my best toy for a used up assassin and some opiates that I could buy from another tribe? Try again.”

“Then we have nothing further to discuss. If you care to make a trade, send a servant to the market and ask if they have the English pears in season.”

It took all my will not to kill Moriarty then and there but I knew it was futile. Neither of us would make it to the door.

I bowed and left the house. I paid the boy who was looking after my horse good money and asked him to keep an eye on the house and tell me any activity. His father saw the dagger at my waist and pledged that he and his sons would do just that.

I rode Lucy back to the house where we were stay through a circuitous path. I knew it would probably not shake off anyone following me but I was going to make them work for the information.

I left Lucy in the hands of the stableboy and went to my rooms.

Moran was chained up in a corner and was being fed by Zaram.

“Did you see Shirley?” he asked.

“Did you know?”

“Did I know what?”

“Who Shirley really is?”

I could see fear and then his face went blank, “She’s Shirley, Moriarty’s favorite plaything.” His voice was wooden like he was repeating something by rote. What had Moriarty done to him? To both of them to cause such reactions?

I needed to think. I went down to the stable and had them saddle up the horse that had been Moran’s and rode out of the city into the country to figure out what I was going to do next and how I was going to rescue my Master from the hands of that mad man.

Chapter Text

I sat out on a rock up on a hill overlooking the city and thought.

Mycroft had to be informed but there was little he could do to help in time.

Moriarty was going to do one of two things, dig in or run. I hoped he would stay around until he could get back Moran but I was not as sure about that.

If he ran, I had a chance at extracting Sherlock. If he stays, I had a harder time but at least I knew where Sherlock is.

Then there was the problem of Sherlock or Shirley. Moran had no idea what Moriarty had done to Sherlock. In his mind Shirley was Jim’s slave and Sherlock was dead or sold and he didn’t know which.

My mind hurt from all the thoughts swirling around it. If I were home, I would make an appointment with Mycroft to restore quiet order in my head. But here I was on my own.

‘You are not alone,’ I heard Sherlock’s voice in my head.

“Stop it. This way leads to madness.”

‘Mycroft gave you access to the tools that you need but you gained their loyalty and trust. You know the way.’

“I can’t think!”

‘Yes, you can. You know what you need to do.’

I looked down and saw the dagger at my waist. He was right, I did have the means and the way to get him out.

I rolled my sleeve up and pulled out the dagger. I drew the dagger across my arm. The pain did focus me and gave me that moment of clarity that I so desperately needed.

I rolled up my other sleeve and slashed my arm again. The pain sang through my body like a missing lover.

I sat and let the feel of the blood run down my arm and off my fingers to the ground.

I looked at the dagger that Jaman gave me. I already knew that this dagger gave me access to the people who would help me. Jaman had told me that one of symbol on the hilt informed the Marketplace members that I was one of them. There was the other that informed tribe members that I was a sacred guest to be given what help I needed. And a third that informed people I was considered a son to Jaman’s father and vengeance would be swift if harm came to me. Jaman joked that this made me a Prince among men.

I tore my shirt and bandaged my arms. I mounted the stallion and rode back into town.

I outlined my plans to Zaram and Pason who had good ideas that took care of some of the problems that I hadn’t solved.

The next morning I sent the mules with Moriarty’s drugs to the compound he was in with a note again offering for a trade Moran for Sherlock.

There was no reply.

I waiting and watched for my opening.

The Nawab of Rampur was a member of the Marketplace. I did not know if he was trust worthy until I received an introduction from Mycroft to give to the Nawab’s major domo.

I went under cover of darkness with Pason and we were received at the home of the Nawab.

“Mr. Holmes has outlined your problem to me,” He said while we were served dinner by his slaves, “ We need to ensue our safety and the safety of our property. Now how I can I help?”

“I need you to ‘rescue’ Moran from us and give him back to Moriarty. Then, very publically arrest us and jail us with a daring escape to follow and our fleeing the city.”

“Street theater!” He said clapping his hands together in glee.

We spent the rest of the evening planning how we were going to do this and when.

The pounding at the door woke all of us up from a sound sleep. We were pulled from our beds and dragged into the street. Moran was half asleep when he realized what was happening and he came to full wakefulness or as much as his brain would allow because of the drugs we had been using to keep him docile. He started shouting that he was being held against his will and he wanted to press charges for kidnapping and assault.

We found ourselves manacled and paraded through the streets to the jail to await our trial on counts of kidnapping.

The trial was swift and went the way I expected. What I did not expect was to see Moriarty again dressed as a woman with a tall veiled woman sitting next to her. I knew it was Holmes but did not let any emotion show on my face.

We were hauled off to jail again with much ceremony and rotten produce tossed at us. We shouted our innocence and that we were being unjustly punished. That Moran was the criminal not us! That just goaded the crowd to throw harder and shout back to us all kinds of slurs and insults.

Once in jail we were taken to the pit and dumped in.

We shouted until the guards dumped cold water on us.

We sat and shivered in the dark waiting for the next step in our plan to be put in place.

Two days later we heard thumps and thuds and found the cover of the pit torn off. A rope ladder was dropped and we were ‘rescued’ by a band of bandits who were really the Nawab’s personal guard. We were seen riding out of Rampur being chased by the local constabulary.

We were snuck back into the city and to the Nawab’s compound for the next part of the plan.

“The tales of your jail house escape has become the stuff of legend,” he said with great delight, “I haven’t had so much fun in ages.”

“I am glad that we can provide you such amusement.”

“Now to get you in at Hidal’s house and give you time to find what you seek.”

That was easier said than done. Hidal’s slaves were loyal to him and I could not fault them for that but a number of them were getting nervous about Moriarty’s presence in the compound and since he had gotten Moran back, he was even more unhinged.

Then came word of a slave sale and party that Moriarty was throwing in a weeks time before he left for parts unknown.

That was our opening because we could get our people on the inside brings goods and the like to the house. Hidal borrowed some slaves from a couple of friends to help serve at the party. The Nawab got his own slaves to serve in their stead.

By the day of the party, we had assembled a map of the house based on the information we were given and had a decent idea where the slaves were being held for sale within it.

Pason took care of making sure that we were ready to flee the minute we got Sherlock back. He took care of the horses and packing. I gave Zaram the Stallion that Moran had been riding as a present and promised Lucy to Pason once the adventure was done.

That evening we snuck in with the guard that was escorting the Nawab to the party. Once in the guards were shown to the stable where food and drink and entertainment had been set up for them. Zaram and I managed to peel off and change into the guard uniforms that the household was wearing. We walked around the perimeter of the house and found several points that we could use to either enter or exit. We took the path of least resistance and walked into the house through the kitchen.

The chaos of the room covered our movements into the house itself.

Zaram went to check the main room and I worked my way to where the slaves were kept but found it empty.

Zaram joined me and said,” I did not see anyone matching the description you gave me and Moran is kneeling next to Moriarty.”

We both knew this meant we had to risk going further in to Moriarty’s quarters.

We worked our way back outside again and then to a door in the private garden that led to the sleeping area of the house.

I knew every minute we were there, was another minute that we could be discovered.

There were two guards on the door which we made short work of.

“Now time is of the essence,” hissed Zaram, “The next patrol will probably be making the rounds soon.”

I picked the lock on the door and carefully opened it. We pulled the bodies into the room and Zaram took position at the door.

I walked from a parlor into the bed room and could not hold a gasp from what I saw.

It was a woman tied to the bed moaning and undulating. She was wearing a long white nightgown of good English make. There was a leather hood over her head and I could tell there was also a gag within the hood. Next to the bed was a case with several vials and a couple of syringes. I looked at the hand that had touched my crotch months ago and saw the scar that I need to see to know this was Sherlock. I could also see needle marks on the arm that was partially exposed.

I packed up the case and started to untie Sherlock. He started fighting me on it. I could hear through the gag him saying the word ‘No’ over and over in a panic.

Zaram apparently heard the noise too because he popped his head and said, “We need to get a move on.”

He saw what was happening and took the butt of his gun bringing it down on the leather clad head with a resounding thump. Sherlock slumped and was still.

“Why on G-d’s Green….”

Zaram cut me off, “No time.”

He wrapped the body up in an ornate blanket and slung this over his shoulder.

I grabbed the case and we left as we came.

We exited out of the compound through a secret door in the garden that lead to an alley were Pason and Ali, servant to the Mawab and head of his security, waited for us. I mounted Lucy and Zaram put the body in front of me.

Just as we road off, we heard the alarm being given and we knew there would be pursuit.

Ali lead us to the city’s gates and let us through where our pack animals were waiting for us.

We fled as fast as we could but could hear the sounds of the patrols that were looking for us.

We hid in a cave that had a pool of fresh water in it. Pason and Zaram used brush and bushes to hid where we were. There was enough room for the horses who needed to be taken care of. Pason went to take care of the horses while Zaram helped me get Holmes off of Lucy and stretched out on a bedroll covered by the blanket we had wrapped Holmes in.

I took a knife and cut the laces to the hood that was over his face. When I pulled it away, I saw his face without any makeup. With his hair tied back, he looked like my Sherlock. I removed the gag and the plugs that were in his ears. I was about to tend to the rest of him when his eyes opened.

He looked at me and screamed in terror.

Chapter Text

“No, no, no! You have killed me! Where is my Master? What have you done?”

I sat back on my heels at the tirade coming from Sherlock’s lips. It didn’t sound like him at all. The voice was modulated higher than his rich speaking voice. He squeaked in a falsetto that tore at my heart.

“Shut her up,” said Zaram, “She will have us found out.”

We heard the sound of dogs howling in the distance but they seemed to be getting closer.

I put the gag back in Sherlock’s mouth. That didn’t stop the noises coming from his throat.

Sherlock untangled himself from the blanket and started to make a run for it.

Zaram used the same method as he had before and hit Sherlock with the butt of his gun.

Down Sherlock went.

“Will you STOP doing that!” I said.

Pason said, “They are here.”

Zaram pointed to the cave entrance, “This is only going to buy us a little time.”

We heard from the cave entrance, “We know you are there. Come on out and we will make it easy on you. If not I am sure the dogs could use a meal.”

I knew that voice.

“Moran” I said.

They nodded.

“Pason, stay here with Sherlock. Zaram with me.”

We walked out of the cave to find Moran and Moriarty on horseback with several of Moriarty’s slaves holding guns on us. The hounds snapped and snarled at us with foam at their jaws.

“How can we help you?” I asked.

“Let’s stop playing games Dr. Watson. I want my property back,” said Moriarty, “I even have a bill of sale with your signature on it to show the Nawab that Shirley belongs to me.”

“That bill of sale was for Johan Sigerson not Shirley.” I said.

Moriarty grinned an evil grin and said softly, “You called it Shirley.”

I shivered at that.

Then from behind me Sherlock came running out of the cave clad only in the nightdress we had found him in. He ran right to Moriarty and grabbed his leg.

“Master! Master!,” he said. The affected voice broke my heart, “I didn’t come willingly. They kidnapped me! Please don’t punish. Please don’t….” and he was reduced to sobs and choking sounds as Moriarty grabbed the collar around the neck and pulled up on it bring Sherlock to his tiptoes.

“I will deal with you later,” he said.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled out the gun from my holster and shot Moriarty and then shot Moran.

In the confusion of Moriarty falling off the horse and letting go of Sherlock’s collar, I kept moving. I ran into the cave and un-tethered Lucy and threw my saddle and saddlebags on quickly securing them. I swung up and raced out of the cave. I reached down and grabbed Sherlock, pulled him up onto the horse and left.

Sherlock fought me every step of the way as we made distance away from Moriarty. I ended up using a choke hold until he passed out. I almost lost him off the horse more than once but Lucy was well trained and I managed to hold on.

I had no idea which direction we were going except away from that mad man. I kept the pace going until I could see that Lucy needed to stop and rest. I was lucky and found a grassy area near a fresh water spring. I took some leather strips out of my bag and tied Sherlock’s wrist and ankle cuffs together. I decided to gag him since I didn’t need a repeat of earlier.

I drank from the spring and came back to Sherlock staring daggers at me.

“I am going to remove the gag so you can drink some water. Please don’t scream.”

He nodded and I removed the gag. I helped him drink some water. When he sat forward I noticed that what I had assumed was dirt on his nightdress was dried blood and there were some wet patches now. I kicked myself mentally for not seeing what was before me.

“Why did you take me? Master told me that you were obsessed with me. That you coveted me but you were dangerous and a very bad man who would do horrible things to me.”

“Sherlock…”

I didn’t get any further because the moment I said his name, he started to convulse and his eyes rolled up in his head. I held him as the fit went on to keep him from hurting himself. Eventually the tremors slowed down and he seemed to ease into sleep.

The sun had set and it didn’t seem like a good idea to continue in the dark.

I put Lucy on her picket line so she could get to the spring and the sweet grass.

Sherlock was shivering. I kicked myself that I hadn’t grabbed the blanket. I couldn’t light a fire. So I did the only thing I could and wrapped my arms around Sherlock holding him so that my body warmth could help him.

I tried to stay awake but my body betrayed me and I drifted off.

The next morning I awoke to Sherlock shivering even harder and mumbling in various languages.

“Please Master, I have been good. Please make the pain stop. I’ve been good. Punish me. Please punish me. Punish me but make the pain in my head stop.”

He heaved up what was left in his stomach. I rolled him to his side so he would not choke.

I remembered the case that I had picked up. I went to my saddlebag and found the vials and the needle. There were instructions in the lid as to the dosage and timing of the shots and the order of them. I still had no idea what was in the vials but I could see that Holmes was suffering badly and out in the middle of nowhere was not the place to start his withdrawal. I pulled the dose into the needle and injected Holmes carefully hoping that this wasn’t a trick and I didn’t just kill him.

Shortly he seemed to relax and come back to himself.

I saddled up Lucy and put Holmes in front of me and continued away from where I felt there was danger. If I had known what was awaiting me, I might have just gone back the way I came.

Chapter Text

After a days travel away from Rampur, I found myself finally thinking about what was next. Until that point I had one thing on my mind which was to find Sherlock Holmes. Now having done that, I had to figure out how to find Sherlock within the body in front of me.

I learned quickly which set of words seemed to set him off. I couldn’t call him Sherlock or he would have a fit. I couldn’t form my mouth around Shirley without my stomach wanting to exit through my mouth. So I worked my way to Sherl which didn’t set him off and I could say it.

That afternoon we came across an accident with a cart that had tipped over. A young man was trapped under it and his companion was trying to figure out how to get him out safely. The ground was muddy and the road was not in the best of shape. I tied Sherl to the saddle and Lucy to a tree before going to help. His companion, whom I later learned was name Hassan, unhitched the ox that was at the front of the cart and tied it next to Lucy. I helped clear the ground around the young man but could see that if we continued that, the cart was going to crush him. We gather some stone and the like from around us and I took a stout tree limb to make a lever. Hassan pulled the young man out as I held the cart up. Just as Hassan got him free, the limb broke and the cart came crashing down.

I said the word “Doctor” in about three different languages until I figured out that Hassan spoke English.

“English?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said as I checked over his companion, “His legs are broken. We need straight wood to make splints before we move him any further.”

He went off to find what I needed and I checked the lad over. He had a rather bad bump on his head that had me concerned about concussion.

I went back to my saddlebags for my medical kit and noticed that Sherlock had worked almost loose of the saddle I had tied him to.

“Really, we are going to do this now?” I said “We have an injured man. We are G-d knows where. I strongly suggest that you stay put.”

He looked at me and shrugged. I helped him off of Lucy and then tied his cuffs together so he could not run off.

I pulled out my dagger to trim down the branches that Hassan had found. He saw the markings on the dagger and pulled his shirt collar down so I could see the leather band around his neck.

He pointed to the man on the ground and said, “That is Aladdin my master. His father will pay you well for your help.”

I nodded and started to splint the legs having Hassan hold his master down if he came to which he did about half way through the second leg.

“Is she your slave?” he asked looking at Sherlock who had gone to sleep or pretended to have done so.

“No, he is my master,” I said.

He tried to work this out in his head but it didn’t quite work out to his satisfaction so he did what I would have done shrug and ignore it like a good slave should.

The cart was a total loss and the goods were in not much better shape. Hassan took the ox and went to his master’s house to get help. They returned in about an hour with another cart that they put Aladdin into.

Hassan dropped to the ground in front of me and bowed, “My master’s father offers you an invitation of hospitality at his house.”

I put my hand on his head and said, “I accept his kind offer.”

That is how we found ourselves in the rather palatial palace of the local Prince Harrai and were shown to private rooms within the palace. Hassan showed me where the bath house was and I decided to take advantage of it to clean Sherlock and myself up from our adventures.

I untied his hands and said, “Strip.”

He said in that voice that hurt my heart, “It is unseemly for a woman to…”

“It isn’t like I haven’t seen you naked before,” I said.

He pulled what was left of the nightgown over his head and I gasped.

All this time tight around his waist was a corset, which pushed his chest up giving him the slight illusion of breasts. It was so tight I was surprised he hadn’t passed out for lack of breath.

“Turn Around,” I said in a commanding tone and he did as ordered. I took the dagger and cut the lacing from the back and pulled the garment off of him. His hands quickly covered his breasts.

I almost sobbed at the sight of his back which had both new and old wounds inflicted upon him. There were signs of infection that concerned me greatly. I could have found him only to lose him

I pulled down his bloomers and he turned around. It was there that I fell to my knees and started crying in anger and in pain.

For around his cock was an ugly metal cage that had been welded shut the same way the cuffs and collar on his wrist, ankles and neck were. I could see that there was damage to his organ from being confined for G-d knows how long.

I grabbed his waist and just hugged him hard crying for what we had lost.

He didn’t pull away. He stood there and stroked my hair like he had done so many times in the past in Baker Street after he had punished me. It was still comforting.

I put a robe on him and led him to the baths where we soaked off the road dirt and sweat that had accumulated during our escape. Slaves washed us carefully and we were massaged and given fresh clothing.

Sherlock had been given a woman’s outfit to wear and I did not protest. Considering the other things that had set him off, I had a bad feeling that male clothing on him would do so.

We went to the dining room after I checked on Aladdin and sat down with Prince Harrai and his wives and children to dinner.

I didn’t know if I could trust him so I gave him the bare bones of how we got to his lands. I did not mention the name Moriarty or Moran in the conversation.

“Normally,” he said after listening to what I said, “I would ransom you to the English but since you have done me a great service, I will let you stay and then continue your journey unharmed. But now I think you both need rest.”

He clapped his hands and we were shown to our rooms.

I looked at Sherlock who had gone an odd color as the dinner had gone on. I realized that he was in the first stages of withdrawal and I couldn’t let him suffer more than he was.

I pulled out the drug kit from Moriarty’s house and gave him a shot according to the schedule. Then I had him lay down on his front as I attended the wounds on his back. I had the slaves get me bandages and hot water. I did the best I could with the materials I had but I had grave concerns for his health both mental and physical.

“Do I have to lock you to the bed or will you behave?” I asked in my commanding tone of voice.

He looked demurely at me through his eyelashes and said, “I’ll be good.”

I got a length of chain and locked him to the bedpost knowing that he would be off the first moment he got a chance. I put a chamberpot on his side of the bed for his needs and stripped out of my clothes.

I lay down on the bed next to Sherlock and tried to work out what I should do next when I felt a hand on my member lightly stroking it.

“Stop,” I said in a rather strangled voice.

“Your body seems to think otherwise.”

“No. This is wrong. You are not in your right mind.”

I tried to grab the hand on my crotch only to find myself pinned with Sherlock on top of me rubbing his ass against my member.

“Oh I am in a fine mind to make you feel good,” he said and continued to rub against my cock.

I hadn’t be touched in so long that I came before I even knew what was going on.

He giggled an insane giggle that set the cold in my bones.

“See I can make it good for you.”

He let me go, rolled over and went to sleep.

Sleep eluded me as I tried wrap my head around what just happened.

Eventually I dropped off and awoke to find myself in what appeared to be a dungeon.

“I am sorry Dr. Watson. I will keep my promise not to ransom you to the English but the reward for your capture was too rich to ignore,” said Prince Harrai.

He stepped aside and I saw Moran enter with his right arm in a sling and right behind him was Moriarty dressed as a proper English woman and being dragged on a leash behind her was Sherlock.

My world tilted and then went black.

Chapter Text

I came back to reality to find myself tied very tightly to a straight back chair with my legs spread wide and my arms rather uncomfortably tied behind on the open slats of the back of the chair. I was still naked.

Sitting in front of me on an overstuffed garish wing back chair was Moriarty. Next to her was Sherlock with a ring gag in his mouth. His legs were lashed together as where his arms behind him. He had to keep his head up because his collar was attached to the rings around his ankles. He was wearing a corset. On his nipples there were two clamps with small weights attached to them. I could see he was struggling to stay up right.

I turned to my right and saw Moran kneeling with his hands behind his back. In front of him were a number of whips and floggers. He was naked from the waist up and had been beaten recently. I could see where the bullet I had hit him with had gone through his shoulder which struck me as a bit ironic because he had shot me in the same shoulder. Only difference was that he was right handed and I was left handed so it was not going to be as much of a problem for him as it had for me.

“Ah the Doctor finally returns to us,” said Moriarty, “Good. I was getting tired of playing with these worn out things.” She gestured to Sherlock and Moran.

I cleared my throat , “How? I shot you. I saw you fall.” I croaked.

She laughed a laugh that sent shivers down my spine.

“That because, my dear boy, you didn’t shoot me. You shot James Moriarty.”

She could see the confusing on my face.

She picked up a glass of water and took a long sip and then put it to my lips. I kept my mouth shut tightly.

“Oh if I was going to poison you…..oh wait I did poison you but not this time.”

I took a sip of the water and then a few more.

“Let me tell you a tale Dr. Watson.”

She walked behind Sherlock and undid the rope leading from his collar to his feet and then pushed him onto the ground. Holmes held back a cry as the nipple clamps popped off in the impact.

“Up,” said Moriarty and Sherlock executed the order with precision. Moriarty picked up the nipple clamps and place them and more weights to the clamps.

She pointed to the space in front of her chair, “Shirley, be a good girl and give Mommy a place to put her feet.”

Sherlock crawled to in front of her chair and went to hands and knees.

“Such a good girl. I might have to reward you but probably not.”

She sat down and placed her boots on Sherlock’s back. She grinned at my discomfort.

There were once two children who were born to slaves within the Marketplace. These twins were most unusual and considered, in some places, to be gods. They were neither male nor female but both male and female. The Master decided to raise them with one as a boy and one as a girl. But the twins knew they were more than that.

At the age of seven they were sold to a traveling circus and shown all over Europe and beyond as part of the freak show. They pleaded to be reunited with their parents. They pleaded for their freedom. But they were given neither.

As they reached their majority, their new owner decided to have them trained in the sexual arts since they were such unique creatures. The twins were trained to serve the whims and whimsies of their owners and their friends. Never asked if they wanted to be part of this world but forced to serve

They were sold to a different kind of circus and they vowed they would escape from their bondage. They managed it but only after several failed attempts that cost them dearly. They swore they would have their revenge on the Marketplace and those within. They would see that horrid organization destroyed and scatter the ashes themselves.

It was while they were with that circus that they met a man who could help them. He was a disgraced soldier who had been drummed out of the army for acts unbecoming a gentleman. They seduced the man and made him their pet and their tool of vengeance.

They discover ways of entertaining people without using their bodies. That others liked the things they could make. They had been trained to administer drugs to heighten the senses and make things last longer. It turned out they had a knack for making what their owner called ‘party favors’ and they were trained in chemistry and the apothecary arts to make new and more wonderful things to be used. After they escaped they made money by selling these concoctions to the rich and powerful. They soon controlled people through these abilities and started an Empire. And through that Empire started their quest to take down their captors.

But they were found out in Afghanistan by a Lord who had a slave and recognized what they were doing. He had gathered information and was about to expose them when he and his slave were shot during a skirmish. They didn’t get to the slave in time and he was sent home and sold to their greatest threat the Holmes Family who had, some how, found out their plan. They threatened the family with exposure for their Invert Son but were thwarted at every turn by the elder brother.

They discovered the plot to plant the younger brother into the Marketplace to ferret out what they were doing. So they brought the brother and killed him or rather killed the brother to create Shirley. I must say he fought hard but in the end his love for you was his downfall.

They figured that the death of the younger brother would send a message to the older brother but that did not turn out as planned. Something happened that derailed their entire plan.

She stood up and walked over to me and pushed her fingers into the scar of the bullet wound, “You happened Dr. Watson and I plan to kill you slowly for what you have done. You know the saying a life for a life. You did kill James Moriarty. You shot him in the neck and he bled out before anything could be done. You injured my poor Sebastian and cause him much pain. I plan to do the same to you.”

She slapped me several times across the face. I could feel my teeth rattle at the blows.

“However I know that you enjoy this so I am going to take it out on Shirley here and you are going to watch.”

She went over and grabbed Sherlock’s hair and pulled him to his feet. He swayed a bit but did not move. I could see that his eyes were pinpoints and that there were fresh tracks on his arm.

She grabbed a knife from the table and slashed Sherlock across the chest. He screamed and fell to his knees.

I lunged in my bonds trying to get free.

“Up,” she commanded.

He struggled to his feet.

“It is interesting this concoction that I have flowing though his veins right now. It makes the body so much more sensitive like all the nerves are exposed and anything that touched him is pain. He has developed a tolerance but still…”

She slashed him across the leg and he screamed again.

“He’s not immune to the sensation. Tiger I want you to untie the Doctor and hang him up by his thumbs. I want to play.”

Moran stood up and limped over to me. Apparently that broken leg was still bothering him. He untied me and put a knife to my throat.

“Any funny business and I’ll cut you,” he growled.

I stood up and took two steps the direction he was guiding me then I dropped and did a sweep kick of his bad leg followed by a groin punch. He toppled and I grabbed the knife.

In the time it took Moriarty to realize what was happening. I had pushed her away from Sherlock and into the chair. I placed my knee between her legs to pin her there and put the knife I had to her throat.

She laughed at me. I pushed the knife into the skin slowly so she would know I was not playing around.

“I have nothing left to lose my dear,” I said, “You have effectively killed both of my masters. Without them I am nothing. I live to serve and if your death is how I leave service then so be it.”

She tried to bring up her right arm with the knife she had in her hand but I pushed my knee into her groin and slapped the knife away. I got cut in my bravado but she no longer had a weapon.

“Shir…” she started to say but I took my right hand and strangled her into unconsciousness.

I turned to find Moran starting to gather himself. I took the hilt of the dagger and bashed him in the head.

I tied and gagged both of them up and went to see to Sherlock who was just standing there bleeding.

I stifled a sob and grabbed his arm making him sit down. He flinched at my touch. I removed the corset, the gag, and the nipple clamps from his body. He didn’t move.

I checked the wounds that Moriarty had inflicted on him and they were shallow enough that they had mostly stopped bleeding. I ripped a sheet and made a bandage. I torn the sheet further and made a breechclout for each of us.

I heard a sound from behind me. Moriarty had worked herself to a sitting position and had almost gotten one hand free. I took more rope and ensured that she was secure. Moran was coming to.

I crouched down in front of her.

“This is how it is going to be. I am taking you and my master with me. If your people try anything, your life is forfeit. Understand that I have nothing left to lose so killing us would not deter me from making sure you go first. Also understand that I have no qualms about killing you slowly and painfully and sending pieces back to prove I still have you.”

For the first time the arrogance in her eyes was replaced with fear. I placed the knife across the palm of her right hand and sliced it open. She screamed behind the gag. I then sewed it up and bandaged it.

“Know that I can do that over and over. I am a doctor. I know how to inflict pain that will not kill you but make you wish I had. And I can heal you and start all over again. I am sure Sebastian told you what I did to him and I was being kind.”

I turned to Sebastian and said, “You are going to get my horse and two others ready to go. I want supplies along with clothes, the drugs needed for Sherl, and my medical kit back and repacked with extra bandages and the like. We will ride out of here and you will not follow or Moriarty does not survive the day.”

He looked at Moriarty who nodded. I cut him loose and let him go.

In short order I had what I asked for. I tied Sherlock to one of the horses and put Moriarty in front of me on Lucy.

We left the palace and headed off quickly to the north.

Chapter Text

I had to gagged Moriarty after she said something to Sherlock that caused him to fall into a fit. This made feeding both of them a bit of a chore. Eventually I looped a rope around Moriarty’s neck and would strangle her if I thought she was trying to set Sherlock off.

We continued on our way. I had a rough idea of which direction I was going and it was away from help. Interestingly enough have Moriarty with us kept Sherlock calm and easier to managed. I tried tapering off the drugs but after the second seizure I knew this was not the time or the place to try.

We came across a village where I had passed through with the chief so I was known to them. I wrote a message to Mycroft that they promised to send south the next time anyone was heading that direction. They didn’t even blink that I had two people tied up with me. I kept Moriarty gagged the entire time and added a head scarf to obscure her face. I did the same with Sherlock.

We were up in the mountains when Moran finally caught up with us. There was a chase that ended up with me with my back up against a wall and a shear cliff in front of me. Moran coming up to my left and a waterfall that I could not ford on my right. I grabbed Moriarty and put my dagger to her throat. Sherlock stood next to me as Moran came around the corner then ran to him before I could grab him.

Moran was alone. I heard no other horses or footsteps following him.

“Let Jamie go,” said Moran who had grabbed Sherlock and put a gun to his head, “Or I swear you will watch another Master’s head explode.”

I knew that if I didn’t everyone would lose. I was trying to think of a way out.

“A trade,” I said, “I have nothing left to lose and you are probably going to kill me or make me wish I was dead so give me Sherl and I will give you Moriarty.”

Moran looked at Moriarty who nodded. I cut the ropes off the cuffs I had her in and removed the gag.

Moran let go of Sherlock at the same time as I let go of Moriarty.

I should have seen it coming. I should have known.

The minute that Moran let go of Sherlock, he made bee line for Moriarty clutching at her skirts and begging for forgiveness.

Moriarty laughed and turned to me after grabbing Sherlock’s collar and pulling him up to kneeling, “You are right, I am going to make you wish you were dead Dr. Watson and then I am going to make you wish it all over again and again. Grab him Moran.”

Moriarty turned to Sherlock and said, “I am so sorry Shirley, I know you were trying to be a good girl but you have been corrupted so I am afraid I am going to have to purify you.”

Sherlock gasped and tried to pull away but Moriarty took a firm grip on the collar and started slowly strangling Sherlock.

As Moran headed for me, I threw my knife at Moriarty which made a meaty thunk at it hit and embedded between the shoulder blades. She let go of Sherlock and was propelled forward to the cliffs edge.

Then I saw something that gave me hope that Sherlock was somewhere still in that brilliant head or it was one hell of a lucky accident.

Sherlock, gasping for breath having been let go, grabbed at Moriarty and pushed her so that Moriarty went over the cliff side.

Moran turned at the scream that was echoing through the cliffs and ran to the edge.

He turned back and found me there pushing him to follow his master into the next life.

Sherlock looked in horror and was about to jump himself when I grabbed him and wrestled him to the ground. I knocked him out and slung him over my shoulders.

I could hear the screams still ringing off the walls but I could also hear dogs and men coming up the path.

Without thinking I started to traverse the waterfall as there was a small foot path under the raging water.

I ran and ran without thinking of anything but to get away from the sounds that were echoing in my head.

Eventually my legs gave out and I fell managing to drop Sherlock before toppling over as shear exhaustion took over.

I thought I saw a flash of red and orange coming toward us as I passed out. I prayed it was help and not our deaths on this unforgiving mountain.

Chapter Text

I awoke in total darkness. I tried to sit up but found that I was strapped to the narrow bed I was on. Panic started to set in. I had been captured and sent to G-d knows where and who.

I settled back and calmed myself. I listened and heard what seemed to be chanting and an occasional bell.

I lay there for a while carefully tugging at my bonds when I realized that I could release myself from them if I wanted to. I was debating on if I should when I heard the scraping of a door and I saw a man enter with a candle that he put on the table next to my bed.

“Ah good,” said the man in English. If he were not dressed in brown and yellow robes and his skin was much lighter, I might have thought myself back in Oxford or Cambridge.

“You are awake my friend. We were a bit worried about you.”

I tried to speak but my throat felt raw and very dry.

The man untied me.

“I do apologize for the restraints but they were necessary so you would not hurt yourself or others. You were in a bit of a state.”

He helped me sit up which temporarily made me dizzy but I sorted out quickly. He helped me drink some cool water and I felt it burn down my throat.

“How long?” I finally croaked out.

“8 days and it was touch and go for a bit. You had been poisoned and were also running a very high fever.”

“Poisoned?”

“We found a thorn in your thigh. We think that is how it entered your system.”

“I have no memory of being struck.”

Then I thought about it and that last night before Moran had caught up with us. Moriarty had been particularly badly behaved and she had been hitting at me. I remember feeling a sharp pain in my leg at one point but I had put it down to the slap and the stress that leg was undergoing trying to get away from Moran.

“Ah, you do remember what happened.”

I nodded. Talking hurt too much.

“Do you feel well enough to stand? I think you will probably want to see your friend.”

Sherlock! How could I forget Sherlock?

I tried to stand but fell back on the bed. He helped me up.

“How is he?”

He hesitated for a moment. I could tell that he was trying to figure out a way to tell me some bad news.

“Alive,” he finally said and started to help me to walk out of the room I was in.

Alive was a more positive word than what I would have used for the condition I found Sherlock in.

They had strapped him to the bed but these restraints could not be gotten out of. He had a blindfold on and things over his ears along with a gag in his mouth. He was moaning and barely moving. His color was sallow and he was thinner than I had ever seen him. If he had not made a sound, I would have taken him as dead.

I could feel my knees crumple at the sight of him and my sense seem to fade away for a moment as my brain tried to understand what I was seeing.

The monk, for lack of a better word, led me to a chair next to Sherlock and sat me down.

“He is actually doing better,” he said in a very positive voice.

“This is better?”

“We haven’t had to restart his heart today so that is progress.”

I shuttered at that thought. How many times had I lost him without knowing that I had?

He turned and said something to the man who had been attending Sherlock when we arrived. The man replied in the same language, bowed to me, and then left the room.

“Doctor Watson,” he said gently.

I jumped up and promptly fell back down, “How do you know my name?”

“Oh I have read about you and Mr. Holmes’ adventures in the Strand when I lived in England. Your illustrator does not do you justice although he does have Holmes’ likeness pretty much.”

‘A reader,’ I thought, ‘I am G-d knows where and I run into a reader’

“I heard about Mr. Holmes’ passing and then yours in Russia. I was most surprised to find both of you on our mountain very much alive. I look forward to reading the tale you will tell.”

“I don’t think I will be telling this one,” I said, “Or rather it will never see print.”

I heard someone enter behind me and say something to my host who replied.

A man in red robes came around with a bowl of water and a sponge and pulled back the sheet. He processed to wash Holmes with cool water. Sherlock sluggishly tried to move away from him but couldn’t.

I looked over his body and could see the marks and bruises starting to fade. There were scars there that I shuttered to look at and other wounds that were still not healed. I glanced down and gave a sigh of relief. The cage that had been on his member was removed and the damage where the cage had rubbed against his skin appeared to be healing.

“We removed all of the metal he was bound with,” said my helper, “We can put it back after he is well if it is needed.”

I shook my head hard, “NO!”

Everyone including Sherlock jumped at the noise of my voice.

I modulated myself and said much quieter, “No, that will not be necessary.”

“Your friend is not out of the woods yet. The drugs he has been on are very strong and trying to find a way to help him has been difficult to say the least.”

The monk finished Sherlock’s front and with the help of my host, they turn him onto his front and retied his arms over his head.

I gasped at the damage to his back. The wounds that I had been trying to keep clean were a mess. He had ulcerated skin where the corset had been so tightly cinched. There were burns and cuts all over his legs and torso but not his arms. Those had track marks from the needles that he had been injected with heaven knows what.

The monk proceeded to tend his back while another monk came in and bowed to the men in the room. He had a bowl of coals and he put it down on the table next to the cot. He carefully turned Sherlock’s head towards the bowl and placed some powered in the brazier. He fanned to the smoke towards Sherlock who seem to relax and fall asleep.

I caught a whiff and recognized the smell of the poppy.

Apparently the look of concern on my face was evident.

“This is medicinal Dr. Watson. It is a mixture that allows his body to rest so it can heal. Without it, he would have died from withdrawl.”

I nodded. Had I done him harm keeping him on the drugs while we fled?

I felt a hand comforting on my shoulder.

“You did the right thing. Given what was in his system, if you had tried to not give him the drugs he would have died right in front of you. You have been a good servant John. You kept him alive.”

“But at what cost?” I sobbed.

I heard some more people enter and the monk who had been bathing Sherlock went to help. They brought my bed into the room and placed it on the other side of Sherlock making the cell we were in feel smaller.

“I assumed that you wanted to be here with him.”

“Yes,” I said through the tears that would not stop falling down my face.

I found myself being gently held.

“You are not at fault here. You did as you had been ordered to do. Now I suggest you get some more rest. We have a long day ahead of us and it is the middle of the night. We will watch your Master for you.”

My befuddled brain finally put together what I was hearing. He knew about my position in Sherlock’s life. I looked at him carefully. I could tell that I was looking at a man who at one time had owned a slave. And for the first time in a long time for some strange reason, I felt safe. He understood our relationship and knew what Sherlock meant to me. He had given me an order so I obeyed it.

I let one of the monks helped me to my bed. I lay down and in short order I was asleep.

Chapter Text

The next couple of days were hell. I could barely move. Holmes wasn’t moving much and the longer that went on the more concerned I became.

Eventually we both turned a corner. I started regaining my strength and Holmes seemed to be coming back to himself although I hadn’t heard him speak.

I asked Yama, who had studied Math at University College Oxford, why they had limited Holmes’ senses. He explained that when we were found Holmes had been in such a state and they discovered that if they removed some of the sensory input, he calmed down.

It made me wonder yet again what Moriarty had done to him.

Yama and I had long discussions late into the night about what I did know. I told him everything that Moran had told me and used the exact wording that he used. I told him about how I had found Sherlock and what happened when I tried to get him to come with me. Yama could tell that I was getting more frustrated the longer he just lay there.

Slowly they brought him back to the world.

The treatment for the drug with-drawl had mixed results. He wasn’t dying but he wasn’t less dependent on the substances they were using. At this point I was praying that we could go back to the substances he use to abuse.

They restored his hearing first. He would react to sound but did not seem to understand what was going on around him. The only reaction that he did have was to my voice and it was not a good one. I said his name and he had a fit to the point that he almost dislocated his shoulders from thrashing about. After that I didn’t say a word around him.

They darkened the room before restoring his sight. I went elsewhere for that at Yama’s suggestion. He had a monk named Rinchen take me for a walk around the temple. The air was crisp but not cold and was rather invigorating. I found myself in a rather beautiful but spare garden. I sat down on a stone and took stock of what had happened and what needed to happen next.

I needed to get a message to Mycroft but that is close to impossible since we apparently just missed the last caravan before the snows set in. The next one would come through in the spring.

This also meant that we were stuck there until the next caravan came through.

I was sure that the Nawab caught Mycroft up on what happened in Rampur but after that I had been unable to inform him of anything after that.

And there was Sherlock. I still had no clear idea what happened to him or how to help him.

My biggest concern was that he had not said a word. There had been screams and moans that broke my heart. He seemed to have lost language and I wondered what else he had lost.

I saw Yama walking towards me with a look on his face that told me that he did not have good news for me.

“There has been a development,” he said and then stopped trying to figure out how to tell me.

“He’s dead,” I said with finality in my voice. Of course that is where my mind went first. His body had been fighting so hard but it was obvious to me that he could not continue like this much longer.

Yama looked stunned. He collected himself and said, “No.”

He paused for a moment, “Is this where your mind is at? Are you preparing for a funeral?”

“Why not,” I said in a weary voice, “It seems to be my lot in life that I find a Master and make the mistake of having feelings for him only to lose him one way or another.”

Yama sat next to me, “You haven’t lost him John. His mind may be fractured but it is not gone. He is alive and where there is life…”

I laughed a barking laugh, “There’s hope? I have very little at this point. What have I done but put him in a situation that I could have not put him in. I lost him and when I found him again, he was lost. I don’t know if either of us are going to recover from this.”

Yama stood and grabbed me by the scruff of the neck. He marched me to a room I hadn’t been allowed into before.

“Strip,” came the order and I found myself obeying without thinking.

Before I could get my thoughts in order I heard “Present” and my body obey as I had been trained to do. My hands went behind my head and I stood at attention.

I had no time to think before I heard the sound of the whip and felt the lash across my back. One followed the other and I found myself floating on a sea of pleasurable pain. And just as it was about to overwhelm me, the beating stopped.

Yama helped me move my hands down to my sides and then to sit carefully on a bench. He handed me some fruit concoction that they drank and I had found tasty. I drank it down.

“Better?”

I nodded as my brain seemed to be working again.

“You listen to me carefully John Watson, slave of Sherlock Holmes, your Master lives. You have a sworn duty to serve him in any manner that he need you to. Right now he needs you to help him find his way back to himself. He needs you to be in charge and looking out for his best interests. He cannot order you to do so but I am on his behalf. You will serve as you have been taught. Apparently you have forgotten this and if you do so again, I will be here to remind you of your obligations. And I ask as a friend, please do not let the situation get this far again.”

“I will do as ordered,” I said. He was right. I had been on my own for so long hoping to be reunited with Sherlock that I had forgotten my place and my job.

He had me stand up and checked over my back. He put an ointment on some of the cuts he had created.

“Now I suggest you get dressed and come with me.”

I pulled on the trousers and shirt they had given me and followed him.

Sherlock was sitting up in the bed and was being fed by a monk.

I walked in and his head turned towards us but something was off. I walked to the other side of the room and realized that his head was following me but his eyes were not.

“Sherl?” I asked quietly.

“John?” he asked me in a rough voice, “Is that really you? Or am I having another nightmare?”

I went to the other side of his bed and said, “It’s me. I got you out.”

“Ah,” he said and went back to eating.

I lifted my hand and he didn’t react.

I looked at Yama and he shook his head.

“John, are you still there?”

“Yes,” I replied trying not to put the fear in my voice that I felt in my heart.

He reached a hand out towards me and I took it. I squeezed it lightly.

“John could you put on a light for me? It is rather dark in here and I can’t seem to get anyone else to understand.”

My fear became terror. The room was well lit, as it was the middle of the day. They had pulled the shades back allowing the light in after having them in place to remove the blindfold he had been wearing.

“I’ll…I’ll see what I can do.” I said carefully.

“Thank you John.”

He ate the rest of his food and declared that he was tired. I helped him settle back into the bed and he slept for the first time unrestrained.

Yama and I stepped out of the room.

“He’s blind,” I said woodenly, “How? What did Moriarty do?”

“I don’t think this is physical Dr. Watson. His eyes react to light the way they should. His brain is just not receiving the information.”

“I have seen this before,” I said, “when I was a surgeon in Afghanistan. A poor boy who witnessed his entire platoon butchered in front of him just stopped seeing. It was a form of shell shock. He didn’t recover. I found out later that he had killed himself shortly after returning home.”

“Your Master had been systematically tortured and drugged for who know how long. The body is finally healing but the mind needs the same.”

“How am I going to do that?”

“You are going to help me,” came a voice behind me. I turned to see the oldest man I had ever seen in my life. Wizen with age but still very much alive. His eyes were that of a young man.

“John Watson meet Tashi Delek, Lama of this monastery and a rather brilliant healer.”

I bowed to the man. He smiled and laid his hands on my head as if to bless me. For some unknown reason I felt calm radiating from him into me. In that moment I trusted this man not only with my life but with Sherlock’s as well.

“Now let’s see what we can do for your Master,” he said and I followed him back into Sherlock’s room with hope in my chest for the first time in a long time.

Chapter Text

The Lama examined Sherlock from head to toe very carefully. At one point Sherlock stirred up the Lama did something and he went back into a deep sleep.

He then waved everyone out of the room except Yama and myself.

“Please remove your clothes and lay down on your stomach on your cot,” he said.

I did as he asked. I could feel his hands just above my skin but not quite touching it.

“Roll over please,” he said.

I did as he asked and he ran his hands over my front just a hair’s breath away from actually touching me.

“You may get dressed,” he said while washing his hands in a basin.

I pulled on my clothing and scratched at my beard.

Delek spoke to Yama in the same language that all the monks spoke. They looked at me with great pity and went back to their conversation.

Yama bowed to Delek who left us alone with Sherlock.

“What was that about?” I asked.

“He has some concerns about you and the stress you have been under. Your heart is heavy and you are out of balance.”

I chuckled and said, “What else is new? This has been my life for the past two years.”

Sherlock sat bolt up in the bed and opened his eyes. He saw us and tried to get out of the bed. There was fear in his eyes.

“Sherl?” I asked.

He fell out of bed and crawled into a corner making himself as small as possible.

I heard him muttering in that falsetto voice that pained me so, “I’ll be good Master. I’ll be good. Don’t teach me a lesson. Please, don’t. This is a test. I have to pass the test. I don’t need correction. I’m the Master’s good girl. I can’t…” He put his fist in his mouth to stifle a scream.

Yama stood there for a moment and went over to Sherlock.

“Your Master asked me to take care of you Shirley,” He said and offered Sherlock his hand, “And you obey your Master don’t you? You are such a good girl right?”

Sherlock looked at him and nodded.

Yama tried to help Sherlock to his feet but Sherlock said, “Pets stay on the floor. Mustn’t pretend to be better than I am. I am nothing but what Master wants me to be.”

“Shirley, I need you to get back in bed for me. Can you do that?”

Sherlock smiled and nodded demurely. He crawled to the bed but hesitated to get up on the bed.

“What is wrong?” Yama asked.

“Pets aren’t allowed on the furniture,” said Sherlock.

Yama pulled down the quilt that had been covering Sherlock and folded it on the floor. Sherlock went on to it and curled up in a ball. Yama motioned for me to get the quilt from my bed and give it to him. He covered Sherlock with the quilt.

“Unless you need to use the chamber pot, I want you to stay right here,” he said in a very authoritative voice.

“Yes Master,” said Sherlock.

Yama motioned to me and we left Sherlock alone on the floor.

“This is a strange turn,” said Yama, “I suggest you go back and be with him. I need to find Delek and tell him about this.”

I did as I was ordered.

Sherlock was curled up on the floor but I could see that he was peeking out at me.

I made show of moving my cot to in front of the door, striping my clothes off, and lying down.

“No one will hurt you,” I said, “I will protect you.”

“I know what you did,” came the voice from the pile of cloth on the floor, “I saw it. I know what I did. They will find and discipline us. They will kill you which will be a kindness as to what they are going to do to me.”

I watched until I knew that Sherlock was asleep. I dozed most of the night but never really went to sleep.

The next morning the light came streaming into the room and I heard Sherlock stir.

“John?” He said very quietly, “Are you here?

“Yes.” I replied.

He sat up, “I thought it was a dream and I would wake up back in Moriarty’s grasp.”

He reached a hand out and I quickly got up and went to him to help him up.

He stood there for a moment and then took his hands and ran them over my face. He smiled, “It is you.”

“Yes,” I said trying not to let the sob in my chest escape my throat.

He pulled me into a hug, “My faithful servant.”

I started to cry. He was in there. My Master was here.

“Shhh, shhh, my brave soldier,” he comforted me when I should be the one doing the same for him.

“Are you naked?” he asked after running his hand down my back.

I nodded.

“Stand there, I want to feel you.”

I did as ordered and Sherlock ran his hands all over my body. Stopping on occasion to examine new marks I have obtained since we had parted ways.

“How long?” he asked.

“One year 2 months and 3 days before I found you the first time,” I said.

He laughed, “How many times did you have to find me?”

I didn’t answer.

He cocked his head and said, “That bad.”

I couldn’t say anything.

He gathered me up in his arms and said, “Take me to my bed.”

I assisted him to the bed and helped him into it.

He opened his arms and said, “Attend me.”

I went into his arms and found myself kissing and being kissed.

We slowly made love to each other remembering what we like best.

And I found myself relaxing in his arms after cleaning us up.

I woke up to being poked in the back and I rolled over to see Sherlock looking right at me.

He said in a voice that was more of an callow youth, “Excuse me Sir, but why am I in your bed?”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I am not allowed to have a name yet. I haven’t earning it. Most call me Pig or Idiot.”

I got up and got dressed quickly.

Sherlock got up but he was dragging his left foot behind him like it was injured. His posture was such that it made him smaller as he hunched over. He picked up a cloth and wound it into a breechclout. I handed him his soft trousers but he shook his head ‘no’ and said, “I am not allowed clothing. I have to keep my body ready for anyone who wants to test me.”

“Test you?”

He dropped to his knees and pulled my cock out of my pants. He proceeded to lick and suck me to hardness then got up on his knees and swallowed me down using his tongue and mouth to add pressure to my cock. I yanked back from him. And he dropped to the ground and said with such fear in his voice, “Please Sir! Please! What did I do wrong? Please correct my bad behavior.”

He turned and unwrapped the cloth around his middle and presented me his ass. I could see he was bracing himself for punishment.

I picked him up and took him to the bed and sat him down. I knelt in front of him and discovered that he was crying.

“You have done nothing wrong,” I said, “You are not going to be punished.”

It took me about half an hour to convince him this was not a trick and I was not about to beat the snot out of him for not completing his task.

I finally convinced him to get dressed and follow me to the dining room.

Yama saw us come in and came to see us, “John would you care to introduce me to your friend?”

“He doesn’t have a name yet,” I said, “he hasn’t earned it.”

Sherlock nodded so hard I thought his head might fall off.

“Well this is a turn indeed,” said Yama, “After you eat, let’s go see the Lama and let him examine your friend.”

“Eat?” asked Sherlock, “Oh no sir. I am not allowed to eat. I am too fat.”

I looked at his emaciated frame.

Yama said, “All right, let’s go see Delek. John I think you should get something to eat and go back to your room. He’ll be safe with me.”

I watched Sherlock dragging his left leg and hunched over follow Yama through a door that I had not been through.

One of the other monks took my arm and led me to a table then brought me food and made sure that I ate.

I went back to the room and waiting for Sherlock’s return.

Chapter Text

Yama came into the room and I saw great concern on his face.

“You need to come with me,” he said.

I followed him through the maze of the temple and found myself in a small garden. Holmes was lying on a long stone plinth that had ornate hooks on each corner. His hands and feet had been tied to each of the hooks. He had a blindfold on. The injuries that had inflicted upon him seemed be almost glowing. They had shaved his head and all his body hair. I saw new evidence of trauma there. It seems to be several vicious looking burns on his skull. Delek was whispering to Holmes as he placed his hands on various places of Holmes’ body.

I opened my mouth but Yama gestured to stay quiet. We stood and watched as Delek walked around Holmes several times. He clapped his hands together and several monks appeared. He spoke to them. They untied Holmes and put him on a stretcher they had brought it. They left the room as silently as they came in.

Delek pointed to the plinth and said, “Please.”

I looked at Yama who gestured that I should obey.

I lay down on the stone, which was not cold but warm and quite comfortable.

They took my arms and legs and tied me down to the stone. I could hear a humming in my head but it was comforting.

Delek gestured and three monks entered with razors and shears and they carefully shaving all the hair off my body including my head and my beard. I didn’t care. I felt warm and safe. There were niggling doubts that surfaced but the voices in the stone told me that I would be fine. I closed my eyes and let the voices wash over me promising me comfort and healing. I could feel Delek run his hands over my body stopping at healed and partially healed part of me. He spent a long time on the bullet wound in my shoulder that had almost taken my life.

“Open your eye,” came the command.

I found myself looking into the green eyes of Delek. His gaze seemed to fix me in place like a bug pinned to a card.

He looked into my soul and then nodded.

They removed my bonds and helped me up from the stone. I rubbed my hand over my now smooth head.

I was given robes like the other monks to wear and led to a room that looked very European. There was a large desk and a number of over stuffed armchairs around a very large fireplace. There was a large set of bookshelves with lots of books on various subjects in various languages.

Delek gestured to one of the chairs nearest the fire. I sat where instructed.

Yama sat in the chair next to me and Delek sat in the chair across from me.

“You have questions,” said Delek in rather accented English.

I nodded.

“Your Master is a very strong man,” said Yama, “Considering the damage to his body, we are both amazed that he is still alive. But then he does have a reason for living.”

They both looked at me.

“His body is healing,” said Delek, “the bigger concern is his mind which is splintered.”

Yama nodded, “To hold onto himself, he let other pieces of himself to fragment. We have so far counted six other personalities in his head besides your Master.”

“But why? Why did his mind do this and why is he blind when he is himself again.”

Delek and Yama gave each other a look.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Delek motioned to Yama who went to a sideboard and poured me a glass of what appeared to be scotch which I found impossible since these monks neither imbibed in drugs, alcohol nor meat. I had adjusted to my new diet and felt better for it.

Yama handed me the glass and said, “Glenlivet. We do keep a store of this for ‘medicinal purposes’ and I think this qualifies.”

Delek chuckled.

I took a pull of the scotch and felt the burn as it slid down my throat.

“John, your Master was systematically tortured. The burns on his skull seem to be electrical burns. There are signs that various limbs have been broken and carefully reset. Most of the scaring is such that it does not show when he is wearing clothing. His face is very much untouched. His fingers have been pulled out and put back to a point that we have concerns about them.”

“His hands have sustained damage before,” I said before relating what had happened to Holmes during the case of the Missing Client.

“Then I am even more amazed by him,” said Yama.

“But what can be done?” I asked.

Delek sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers, “That is a complicated question that does not have a simple answer. We need to guide him back to himself. To put fit the pieces back into the whole.”

Yama looked at me, “And you are going to be a integral part of doing this.”

“How?” I said, “How can I help?”

“Be with him,” said Delek, “Make note of when he is himself and when he is one of the fragments. Make note of what happened before he moved to another person in his head. You will have to be patient with him because this will not be an easy road for either of you.”

“Is he aware of what is happening to him?”

Both men shook their heads and Yama said, “And at this point you cannot tell him what is happening to him. We hope that soon we can but right now it is not safe.”

I took another pull of the scotch.

Yama took the empty glass from me and pointed to the floor. I knelt in front of him.

He produced a leather collar and a small lock. He put the collar around my neck and locked it. The weight gave me comfort.

“John Watson,” he said very formally, “slave of Sherlock Holmes, I order you on the behalf of your Master to do as we say and take charge of your Master’s health and happiness.”

I abased myself on the floor in front of him and said, “I shall do as you ordered.”

He helped me up and said, “Go to him.”

Delek nodded.

I walked back to the room and much to my horror I didn’t see Holmes in the room.

I looked around for any sign of him.

I heard a growl from behind me and turned in time to see Holmes rushing at me to attack. I tried to defend myself but he quickly over powered me. He clawed and scratched me like an animal then tried to bite my throat, which I managed to defend him from doing so. He grabbed me and I felt my head hit the stone pavement hard and then I felt no more.

Chapter Text

I awoke on my bed with a monk watching me. He smiled and gestured that I should not get up yet. He left the room and shortly Yama came in.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

I tried to sit up but the room was spinning so I lay back down, “A bit dizzy.”

“That would be the concussion you suffered from the blow to the head. You are very resilient. The number of blows you have taken to the head over time would make most men’s brains mush.”

“Strong skull,” I said.

“Strong will,” he replied.

I tried to sit up again with a little more success. It was exacerbated by the pulling of the bandages that now swathed my chest and arms.

“He scratched you rather deep in some places. No stitches but we erred on the side of caution about possible infection.”

“Where is he?”

Yama pointed to a corner of the room that had a number of iron rings in the wall. Holmes was on his side on a mat on the floor. He had been shackled and there was a muzzle on the lower half of his face. He had a collar round his neck, which was chained off to one of the lower rings.

“Is that necessary?” I exclaimed, “He is injured and sick of mind.”

“He tore and bit six monks before we could pull him off of you and restrain him,” said Yama.

I heard a whimper come from that corner of the room. I stood up carefully and waved off Yama. I crossed to Holmes who seemed to be having a bad dream. I sat down next to him and pulled him into my lap. His long arms went around my waist and his head mashed up against my stomach. I stroked him gently and crooned a silly song that I had used to calm him before. I could feel him fall further into a deep sleep.

Yama went to the door and gave orders to whoever was outside.

Shortly some monks entered with a stool and breakfast of fruit and yogurt. They put this within my arms reach so I could feed myself while still holding Holmes.
At some point Holmes woke up and I fed him through the bars of muzzle which half way through I gestured for Yama to leave which he did reluctantly.

“You’re not going to hurt me are you old boy?” I said in a very jovial tone. Holmes looked at me and then down not meeting my gaze.

I carefully removed the muzzle and Sherlock worked his jaw a bit.

I proceeded to feed Sherlock who seemed grateful for every bite.

I continued to gently stroke him and talk in a low voice to him like one would with a scared animal.

He responded to this and seemed to relax.

“If I take off these restrains, you will behave won’t you?” I said.

I thought I saw him nod and just as quickly I saw fear in his eyes.

“No, no you are fine Sherlock. You are fine. You are such a good boy aren’t you?”

He grinned and held up his wrists.

I unstrapped him and unhooked the collar from the chain on the wall.

He went up on all fours and then sat on his haunches looking at me for his next order.

I worked my way to my feet with my knee giving me grief. I went to Holmes’ bed and sat down on it.

“Come on up,” I said.

He whined and backed up a bit.

“You aren’t in trouble. I need you to come up here so I can get a good look at you.”

He cocked his head and stared at me for a bit but obeyed the order and curled up next to me. I check him over for any new injury but there was none.

He let out a contented sigh and went to sleep. I curled up around him and did the same.

“Watson,” came the voice to cut through the nightmare I found myself in.

“Watson,” I heard and opened my eyes to see Holmes looking back at me.

“It is really you,” he said taking his hand and running it down my cheek, “I had dare not hoped. So many times I thought you had found me only to wake up and discover that my situation had not improved.”

“Holmes? It is you? Can you see me?” I said in a rush.

He laughed and it was water in the desert to me. This was my master. He was here.

“Yes I can see you and what the duce made you shave your head? It looks absurd.”

“No more than yourself Holmes,” I said a little hurt.

He raised his hand to his head and said,” Well there must be a tale in here to tell indeed. Where are we?”

“In a monastery in the mountains of Tibet Mr. Holmes,” said Yama as he ended the room “How you got here is Dr. Watson’s place to tell you. You have a loyal servant in that one.”

Holmes nodded, “I know.”

“How do you feel?” asked Yama.

“A little more myself than I have been,” said Holmes.

I could feel the tears forming in my eyes and the harder as I tried to fight them back, the more they flowed.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Holmes said in a soft voice and he gathered me in his arms, “it cannot have been that bad.”

Yama said very gravely, “Mr. Holmes, you haven’t been yourself for months. What is the last thing you remember?”

Holmes shuttered and said in a hoarse whisper, “Moriarty trying to kill John.”

I said, “You won’t have to worry about either him or her.”

He looked at me very carefully and then said, “So it is over?”

I said, “You are a free man Sherlock Holmes.” I removed the collar from his throat.

“And you?” he asked.

“Your willing and abject slave.” I said.

Yama said, “Dr. Watson has done you yeoman service Mr. Holmes. He rescued you and brought you to us so that we might help you heal.”

“I feel fine,” said Holmes, “a few aches and bruises. Watson, what the hell happened to you?”

Delek walked in at that point, “You did Mr. Holmes. You tried to tear him from limb to limb.”

Holmes looked stunned.

“Mr. Holmes, I am afraid to inform you that you haven’t been yourself lately and we wish to help you,” said Delek.

Yama, Delek and I proceeded to tell Holmes all that had happened since we had arrived at the monastery. They filled in some gaps in my memory.

There was no sugar coating this. They were quite frank about their observations of Holmes’ and his other personalities and the reasons behind why his mind had splintered.

After they had finished, they both stood up and bowed to us.

Yama said, “I think Dr. Watson can fill you in on the details of how you got to us. And know that we will help you.”

Holmes looked stunned at the information that had been presented to him. I watched him as he processed it.

“Watson, can you forgive me?”

“For what?”

“For being such a fool,” he said, “you were right. I was unfit for the role I played and now we are both paying the price for it.”

I got off the bed and knelt in front of him. “I live to serve you and only you. You order and I obey. My will and my life are yours to do with as you will. I pledge my servitude to you and you alone.”

He placed his hand on my neck and squeezed lightly, “I accept your service. You are my property and mine alone. I will order and you will obey. My will is your will. I promise not to discard you or misuse you for all our days.”

We sat there like that for a bit and the world seemed more balance to me than it had in days.

“Watson,” he said, “Is there a bath to be had in this place?”

I smiled and said, “They have a bathhouse to rival anything we have in London.”

“Then take me there and attend me.”

I stood up and helped him stand. I led him to the bathhouse eager to serve again.

Chapter Text

I took Holmes through my favorite gardens so he could see them for the first time. We sat for a bit and contemplated the forms of the rock garden that was very impressive. He seemed to enjoy feeling the sun on his skin with the light breeze that spoke of winter to come.

We entered the bathhouse as Yama was leaving it.

“Friends, I have cleared the rooms so you may have some privacy but if you need anything, there is a small gong in the main room that will summon an attendant.”

I bowed to Yama and said in the monastery common tongue, ”I thank you for your kindness.”

Holmes bowed as well and looked rather impressed at my language abilities.

I led him into the main room and quickly undressed. He helped me off with the bandages that I was swathed in and carefully traced each mark and bite he had made.

“Oh Watson, I have ill-used you indeed,” he said sadly.

I shook my head, “It wasn’t you.”

He looked at me and seemed to be weighing what he was going to say next in response but he smiled instead.

“Undress me, “ he commanded and I obeyed. I wrapped a towel around his waist but stayed naked.

I knelt with my head down waiting for my next order.

He grabbed my collar and pulled me up to standing to my tip-toes and kissed me rather ferociously. I returned his kiss with the same passion. I could feel my member pulsing between my legs with much interest.

We walked into the warm room. Holmes removed his towel, placed it on the bench and then sat down with his legs open. I could see that his cock was at more than half-mast.

He had picked up a second towel in the main room, which he dropped carefully on the stone floor in front of him. He pointed to the space where the towel was.

I needed no verbal orders but quickly knelt between his legs and worshiped his body with my hands, lips and tongue. I took the head of his now full erect member into my mouth and started licking and sucking it. He threw his head back with a lustful groan.

“Oh Watson, how I have missed this,” he said.

This only encouraged my efforts to please my Master.

I had him on the brink but he pulled me off by my collar.

“Not yet,” he said.

I whined a bit because I was so close too. He commanded me to stand up and then took me to the cold pool and tossed me in cooling my ardor immediately.

“Not cricket Holmes,” I said.

He laughed a deep belly laugh and I reveled in the sound that I had not heard in so long.

He grabbed my collar and hauled me out of the pool and into the hot room.

“I want you to place your hands on the bench with your ass out,” he said with a growl.

I did as ordered and then heard the sound of a thin cane being whipped through the air a couple of time before I felt the first blow on my buttocks.

“One, thank you Sir,” I said blissfully.

He proceeded to cover my backside with very skillful marks.

Then to my shame, I released on the floor.

“Oh Watson, still so eager,” he said as he stroked the marks he made on my ass.

I was embarrassed at my lack of control.

“Now, now mustn’t have any of that,” he said, “It’s my fault you haven’t been properly taken care of.”

I felt his fingers slick from some form of oil teasing just outside my pucker. I took my hands and spread my ass cheeks giving him better access to his goal.

He placed one finger in and quickly followed it with two then three. I moaned my pleasure for his ears to hear.

“You can be so wanton,” he said with a chuckle as he lined up his cock and breached me.

He went hard and fast and came before I think either of us were ready for him to be done. He collapsed on my back and I held us up with my arms and legs until he moved again.

He grabbed my collar and again tossed me into the cool water of the pool quickly following me into the water.

The cool temperature of the water helped the burning of the beating fade to a pleasant memory.

We sat there a while just enjoying being together.

He got out of the pool and said, “Come Watson, I need your clever fingers.”

I followed him to the massage room, which had been set up with everything I could need. I quickly figured out that this is where he had gotten the oil he had used on me.

He lay down on the table and I proceeded to massage his long frame paying special attention to various knots and muscle groups that seemed tight. It also gave me a good long look at the damage that had been inflicted on him and it was not pretty. Many of the wounds and bruises were mostly healed but I could see scars where the corset had dug into his body and other scars some of which I knew what instrument had been used to inflict them and some I had no idea.

Once I was done with his back, he rolled over and I started working on his front. His member was at attention again.

I had just finished with his feet when the command came, “Ride me.”

I climbed up on the table and carefully balanced myself as I slowly worked myself onto his cock. As I bottomed out, he placed his hands on my hips and said, “Move.”

He set the pace with his hands and I obeyed as I thrust myself up and down on him. I could feel him reaching climax so I squeezed him with my ass and he came with a shout. And must to my dismay, I came all over his chest and face.

He helped me off of him and said with a chuckle, “Good thing we are in a bath house.”

We went back to the pool and washed ourselves off. Or rather I washed him and he washed me.

He got out of the pool, yawned a large yawn, and said, “Attend me.”

I dried him off and helped him into clean clothes that magically appeared.

I did the same for me and we went back to our room where a light supper had been put out for us. We ate our fill and then went to bed.

“Watson, you are my faithful servant,” he said as he curled around me and we both fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

I awoke to a mouth on my rapidly hardening cock. I just lay back and let him do what he wanted to me.

After I shouted my release, he popped off my cock and said in that boy-like voice, “Did I please you Master?”

I remember what Yama told me about playing along with the personality.

“Yes, you did. You are a good lad indeed,” I said entirely too cheerfully.

He blushed and said, “Do you want to fuck me or beat me? How else may I give you pleasure?”

“Tell me about yourself,” I said.

He shuttered, “I am nothing. I have no story. I am a thing with holes to be filled.”

I motioned that he should come into my arms. I held his trembling body against my own and stroked his back trying to comfort him.

“You are so much more than that,” I said, “You are very clever….”

“No, no, no,” he tried to pull away but I held onto him, “Not clever. Never clever. Clever is pain and want. I am to be punished if I try to be clever.”

“Shhhhh,” I said trying to hold onto the now squirming body in my arms.

“Punish me!” he declared.

“Sorry?”

“If you punish me then Master won’t. You have to punish me!”

“How shall I punish you?”

He seemed to calm down at my words.

He shrugged, “It is up to you….maybe spank me?”

I nodded and said, “Assume the position.”

He scrambled off my lap and placed his hands on the bed with his ass out ready for my hand.

“Not that way,” I said sitting on the edge of the bed, “across my lap.”

He positioned himself as I requested. I used my right hand to steady him and ran my left hand over his ass.

“Count,” I said and he shivered. I couldn’t tell if it was liking or loathing but either way I had to do this task.”

I smacked him on his left ass cheek leaving a definite handprint.

“One Sir” he sighed.

I then smacked the right.

“Two Sir,” he said.

I felt his cock twitch against my leg.

The longer I spanked him, the harder he became to the point of leaking on the floor.

“Stand up!” I commanded, “Hands behind your back and face me.”

He did as I told him. I grabbed his cock and started pulling and tugging on it rather roughly guessing that this would be how he had been trained.

“Come!” I shouted and he complied with a hoarse shout. I found my chest and face covered in his issue.

He dropped to his knees and panted awaiting further orders.

“Clean me up,” I said.

He crawled and picked up a towel we had left on the floor from the bathhouse and returned. He used the towel and carefully wiped me down.

“It’s in your hair Sir,” he said with great regret.

“Then we shall have to bath again,” I said, “you will attend me.”

He almost smiled and his whole body seem to wriggle in delight, “Oh Sir, yes Sir. Kind Sir.”

He stood up but he kept his back hunched and his left leg canted. I wrapped a towel around his waist and put a robe around me.

He followed me to the bathhouse. The monks who were bathing got out quickly. They bowed to me upon leaving.

Holmes attended me as we went through the process of bathing.

I managed to convince him to put on a pair of loose trousers and a shirt.

We met Yama on the way back to our room and he invited me to have tea with Delek and him. We followed Yama to the same study they had taken me to before and in short order I found myself seated with a fine cup of tea with Sherlock kneeling next to me on a cushion that was there when we came in. He looked so grateful for the cushion that I thought he was going to cry.

“Come here boy,” said Delek.

Sherlock looked at me and I nodded. He crawled over to the chair where Delek sat.

“Up,” said Delek and Sherlock went up on his knees.

Delek grabbed his face in his hands and said something to him I could not hear.

Sherlock’s eyes rolled back into his head and he started toppling backwards but was caught by Yama who helped Sherlock down to the floor without injury.

“What did you DO!” I cried.

“Shhhh, Dr. Watson, he is not harmed,” said Yama grabbing me before I could get to Delek.

Delek said, “Boy, can you hear me?”

Sherlock nodded.

“What was that?”

Sherlock cleared his throat, “I hear you Sir.”

“I want you to think back. I want you to think back to the beginning of your training.”

Sherlock shuttered and whimpered.

“No. Remember nothing can hurt you. Observe only.”

Yama whispered in my ear,” Delek has already talked to the boy once before but couldn’t go very far before he shut down. He hopes that if you are here, he can get further.”

I opened my mouth to ask a question but Delek shook his head and I closed my mouth.

“I remember pain. Pain in my head. Pain in my body. Pain in my genitals. I keep asking what I could do to stop the pain but the pain didn't ever seem to stop. The buzzing sound right before the pain and then the touch and the explosion.”

Yama pointed at Sherlock’s body at the healing burns on his head and body. I bit my finger to keep from crying out.

“They told me that if I did as I was told, the pain would go away. I pleaded with them whatever they wanted. I pleaded for them to kill me rather than go through my ‘lessons’ again.”

“Lessons?”

“That I am a toy with holes to be used. They would strap me to a stand and put a gag in my mouth with a ring that held it open. Then Master would bring in guests to play with me. They used dildos and plugs to open me so I could be fucked. My mouth was used too. Sometimes as the same time. They would use me to put out their cigars. They would choke me until I passed out and then dump cold water on me to bring me back.”

“They would….they would….” I could see the seizure starting as his body convulsed. Delek quickly picked up Sherlock and said something in his ear and Sherlock relaxed.

“Rest boy. You have been a good slave. Now can you let me talk to Sherlock?”

Sherlock shook his head, “We must save him. Must save him for John. John will save him and we will go away.”

Delek motioned for me to join him, “John is here Sherlock. Your faithful servant has moved heaven and earth to find you. Now I need you to see him.”

I sat next to the two men and placed my hand on Sherlock, “Sherlock, I am here. Please come back to me.”

Sherlock whimpered and tried to crawl into my lap.

“Sherlock?” I said holding him carefully in my arms.

He seemed to come to himself, “John? Why are we on the floor?”

I laughed through the tears, “I’ll explain later.”

Delek stood up with Yama’s help. They bowed to us and started to leave.

Sherlock stopped them in their tracks, “What did you do?”

“Sorry?” said Yama.

“What did you do?”

I said, “Delek was helping you find yourself Sir.”

“Who did you talk to?”

“The boy,” said Delek.

“Not Shirley or Leslie?”

“No.”

“Good. John, I’m tired. Can we go back to our room?”

“Who’s Leslie?” I asked.

Yama held up his hand and I nodded.

I took Sherlock back to our room and got him ready for bed. I went to my bed only to be summoned to my Master’s bed.

“John, sleep with me. I do better when you are with me.”

I went into his arms and lay there until I knew he was deeply asleep. I then slipped out and went into the night to the rock garden and sat and thought over all that had happened that day.

Yama joined me. He sat down next to me and pulled me into a hug. I tried to pull away but he just held me and I just broke down. I cried my fears and terrors into his robes. I sobbed my concerns. I blubbered my secrets. I totally broke down.

And he just held me and listened to me. Not judging me.

At the end I felt spent and empty. I had nothing left. I was done.

G-d help me I was done.

Chapter Text

I don’t remember Yama bringing me back to my room.

I found myself back in bed with Sherlock. He was looking at me with such concern in his eyes.

“Sir?” I asked tentatively hoping that I was looking at Sherlock and not one of the other people that seemed to be living in his head.

“Yes,” he said, “It’s me.”

I sighed a heavy sigh of relief.

“My poor John, what I have put you through,” he said running his hand down the side of my face. I relaxed into the touch.

“That is nothing compared to what you went through,” I said.

He chuckled, “May be we should compare notes sometime.”

“Now is as good as any. So what do you remember since we parted ways?”

He shuttered, “Enough and not enough at the same time. It started out which what seemed to be a normal Marketplace sale but then…”

“If you don’t want to talk about it…”

He held up his hand, “No, Delek said that I should find someone I trust and tell them what I do remember before I go away.”

“Go away?”

He tapped his head, “When someone else comes to visit.”

He got up and stretched. I looked at his body and the damage done to it. I redressed the few wounds that still needed to be covered and then helped him into his robes. I quickly got dressed myself and the two of us went to breakfast.

Afterwards he asked me to show him the gardens again. We settled down on a bench under a tree. The air had a chill and the promise of the winter to come.

“Where to start…” said Holmes.

“How about after I last saw you in Germany,” I said, “Mycroft had snippets information of where you were until you vanished.”
He sighed, “I remember that day. Hugging Mary….how is Mary?”

He saw my face and said, “John, what happened?”

I told him about what happened to Mary and our sons. I felt tears coming to my eyes and he held me gently. After I had finished telling him I could feel he was shaking.

I looked up and saw there were tears in his eyes.

“I have a son,” he said quietly, “I have a son.”

“And he is beautiful,” I said, “He would be almost three years old now. He’s with Mycroft.”

“And your son?”

“Being raised with yours.”

“I never thought I would have a child. It was not in my nature. John you have given me a gift I thought I would never have.”

I giggled, “Mycroft said the same thing to me about you.”

I watched as he absorbed the information I had given him.

“And you,” he said, “You lost every thing. I am so sorry John.”

“Not everything,” I said looking at him.

He looked into my eyes and said, “What are you not telling me.”

“Sorry?”

“What are you NOT telling me?”

“Sir?”

He pointed at the ground in front of him. I knelt before him. He grabbed my head in his hands and made me look him in the eye.

“What did you do?”

I knew that I couldn’t avoid the subject nor could I lie to him.

“Shortly after Mary died, Mycroft informed me that he had lost track of you and feared you were dead. That you had been sold and the people who bought you were not who we thought they were. I….I….”

The words would not come to my lips.

“You tried to end it.”

I nodded and my cheeks flamed with shame.

I did not expect the opened handed slap that came across my face. My ears were ringing from the blow and I fell to my side.

“How could you!” he bellowed, “You belong to ME! Your body is mine to command.”

He hit me again and grabbed me by the collar. He positioned me with my hands on a rock and my ass out and proceeded to hit, slap and punch me all the while berating me for what I had done.

I muttered apologies all the while. Trying to find the right words that would satisfy him and stop the punishment. But also knowing that I deserved every blow that was raining down on my body.

My knees gave out at some point and I fell to the ground. I thought I heard some shouting but I wasn’t sure with the ringing in my ears.

The beating stopped and I found myself being gathered up in my Master’s arms.

“Oh Watson, what have I done? What have I done?”

“Give him here,” said a voice. It was Delek’s I think but I was not sure.

“No, he is my responsibility,” came the reply. I leaned into my Master’s chest listening to the rumble of his voice.

“Then bring him to the healing room and let me see what damage was done. You went too far Holmes.”

I tried to protest but my mouth didn’t want to work. I hurt.

I was carried by Holmes and placed on the warm stone table. I heard the voices whispering in my ears words of comfort. I could feel Delek’s hands hovering just over my body.

I heard Holmes crying and I want to comfort him. I tried to get up but found myself restrained.

I heard Yama talking to Holmes about me and my injuries both past and present and what I went through to get to Holmes.

I felt the cool touch of my Master on my face, “Oh Watson, how I have used you badly. I hope some day you can forgive me.”

I tried to talk but I could not. I smelled the vapor of the poppies and breathed it in sinking into darkness and peace.

I came to in the bed that Holmes and I had occupied but alone. I found that I could only really open one eye and that not too far. I turned my head and found myself looking at my very distraught Master.

“Watson?”

I opened my mouth to reply but no sound.

“No, no don’t try to talk right now. Thank G-d that you are awake. Thank G-d.”

I tried to move but found that I was a mass of pain in a man’s body.

“I am sorry Watson. I am so sorry. I should release you from your contract considering how I behaved. I am not worthy of owning you.”

I pushed air across my vocal cords and croaked out, “No. You can’t. I won’t let you. Contract or no, you own me.”

He gently took my hand in his and said, “I lost my temper. I….I didn’t know what to do. Knowing that I almost lost you due to my foolishness and headstrong will. I would have followed you into the abyss if I had found out. I almost did.”

“What happened Holmes?”

He took a deep breath and said, “I will tell you what I remember.”

Chapter Text

Watson, after I left you and Mary that room, I was taken to the hotel where we had rooms. There I was ordered to help the other slaves with the packing and getting ready to depart.

I was handed over to Miles to use as he saw fit. He quizzed me on my background after looking briefly at my file that Moran had handed over to him.

“Strip,” came the order and I did as I was bade to do. The clothing went into a cloth bag.

“You will get these back after your contract is done. Unless you are in public with the Masters or it is needed for the task at hand, you will remain naked. Now I need you to help Winston with packing up the Mistress’ room.”

I followed him to the bedroom and was introduced to Winston.

“Here’s the new one that she picked up at the auction. Put him to work.”

Winston nodded, “Please pack up our Mistress’ toiletries. The case for them is next to her dressing table. Remember to get the items out of the bathroom as well.”

He tossed me a pair of loose trousers, “Put these on since you will have to go into some public areas today and they don’t care much for naked people running around.”

I looked at Winston and quickly gathered that he was German, had been in service for a rather long time and, first appearances to the contrary, had been ill-used. I noted various scars and cuts on his body along with his tendency to draw away when I came up to his left. I learned later that he had lost the vision in his left eye after a beating so severe it had put him in the hospital.

I did as I had been ordered and carefully packed the trunk that held all her toiletries. I had gone through the bathroom a second time and found a small vial that I missed before. I found a place for it and closed the trunk.

When she walked into the room, everyone dropped to their knees and put their gaze firmly on the floor. I followed their lead.

She walked over to the trunk I had just finished packing.

“Who closed this?” she snapped.

I could see the bodies in the room flinch at her voice.

“I did Ma’am,” I said not looking up.

She grabbed my hair and pulled my head up to meet her eye, “Were you told to close it?”

I quickly thought through all that had been said, “No Ma’am.”

“Where you instructed to leave it open so I could inspect it before it was closed?”

I hesitated for a moment and found head snapping around after she slapped my face.

Winston said with a tremor in his voice, “It was my error Master. I told him to pack the trunk I didn’t inform him to leave it open.”

“Now Winston, it is kind of you to try to keep Sigerson out of trouble but he is at fault.”

“But…”

She turned and Winston went silent.

“And why is he not naked?”

“I was about to send him into the common rooms to gather the coats that need to be packed along with anything else we have there.”

She let go of my head and walked over to where Winston was kneeling, “You do really want to take his punishment don’t you? Why? Did he suck you off?”

“No Master.”

“Do you want him to suck you off?”

“No Master.”

She backhanded him so hard he fell back onto his heels, “Don’t lie to me. You know how I cannot abide a liar.”

“The rest of you out,” she pointed to the door and the other people in the room scampered.

“You, strip,” she said, “Then stand in the middle of the room hands behind your head and keep them there.”

I did as I had been ordered.

She grabbed Winston and pulled him by the collar in front of me. She pointed at my groin and said, “Suck him off.”

She said to me, “You are not to cum until I say you can.”

He started to lick the tip of my penis and quickly I found myself with my cock down his throat as he licked and sucks me. I heard her walked to the corner of the room and pick something up. She went behind me and there was an explosion of pain across my right buttock. I quickly figured out it was a thin cane. He continued to suck and she continued to beat me. My body couldn’t figure out what to do.

At some point I apparently passed out for the next thing I remember was finding myself on a rough pallet in the basement of the hotel. I stood up slowly feeling each of the stripes on my backside.

“Good, you are back with us,” said a voice.

I turned to find Moran sitting on a chair watching me.

“Yes Sir,” I said.

He laughed, “I am the farthest thing from a Sir you will ever meet. Now get up and get dressed we are leaving.”

I did as ordered and joined the rest of the household slaves in the salon of the hotel.

Winston was not among our number.

I did not find out until later that he had been sold to a new Master and I was his replacement.

We left the hotel and went to a country estate somewhere in Austria where I learned what I had gotten myself into and was terrified that I would not be able to get myself out.

Chapter Text

The new purchases were taken together and put in a boxcar on the train. We were blindfolded and chained together which made walking difficult at best.

The train ride was tedious. We passed the time whispering to each other finding out bits and pieces of information. I discovered that three of our number didn’t speak English but fortunately most of us spoke French and German. I was the only one who spoke Russian so I translated for one young man who was very scared. This was his first contract.

By the time we arrived at the station, we had a decent idea who everyone was and where they were from. I had used my cover as my story and my fellow slaves accepted me as one of their own.

We were off loaded into a lorry still blindfolded. Once at our destination, we were unchained from each other and led into what I discovered was the dungeon were we were separated from each other and placed into individual cells. Our chains were removed.

I took off my blindfold but it made no difference because the room was pitch black. I felt my way around the small cell. The door was wood with a slot at the bottom and a window with bars at eye level. There was a crude straw pallet with a thin blanket against the other wall. There was a chamberpot in another corner near the door. Across the walls at various points there were rings that later I learned the purpose all too well. I lay down and tried to sleep but my mind was racing trying to sort out what was happening to us.

I drifted a bit and was brought to full wakefulness with someone banging on the bars of my cell.

“Strip and Present!” came the command.

I complied. Two men in leather hoods came in and put leg irons on me along with manacles on my wrists. The blindfold was put over my eyes and I was quick marched from my cell up two sets of stairs and into a large room.

I heard others breathing and people being hustled in. I heard a slap and a cry of pain.

“Do not remove your blindfolds until instructed,” a familiar voice said.

I waited at attention as the last of our number were brought in.

“Blindfolds off” and we complied. I blinked rather owlishly as the room was filled with bright sunlight and I had spent quite a bit of time in the dark. I finally was able to focus on the room, which was a large room with very little furniture. The floor had an intricate wooden design worked into it. The walls were stone covered with tapestries showing scenes of medieval hunting of boar. The windows covered much of one wall to our right. We were facing a large fireplace in which there was a roaring fire. On either side of the fireplace were two very old overstuffed chairs. The same person seemed to be sitting in both chairs at the same time. The only difference was that one version was dressed as a male and the other as a female. Standing in front of the fireplace was Moran with a small table next to him on which was a stack of paper.

“These are your owners James Moriarty. They are your Lord and Master. You have signed contracts to this effect.” He placed his hand on the stack of papers next to him.

“You have expressed the desire to be slaves. You have all trained for this task and have been deemed worthy by your trainers to be what you want to be.”

He picked up the stack of papers and tossed them into the fire.

There was a gasp from the group.

One man who I knew as Harold said, “You have no right…”

Moran pulled out a gun from the holster that was behind his back and shot Harold in the head. Harold was dead before he hit the floor.

It was then that the screaming and chaos started. Which was quickly silenced by another gunshot in the air.

“You are slaves,” declared Moran, “You have no rights or privileges. You are owned. You will learn your place or find yourself tucked in next to Harold in the graveyard here on these grounds.”

The female dressed James stood up and said,” You will forget what you have learned. You will now learn what it truly means to be a slave. Your life is in my hands and I can and will use any means necessary to profit from what I own.”

The male dressed James stood up and said,” Moran, you have your orders. Make sure our…property is instructed correctly for their new duties.”

The matching grins on their faces chilled me to the core. I could hear a couple of people crying but I kept my focus forward.

They walked over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder and whispered in my ear at the same time, “And you my pet. You will be my personal project Mr. Holmes.”

The chill turned to ice and I knew I had walked into a trap that I might not be able to walk out of.

Chapter Text

Moriarty left me with a cold sweat rolling down my body. I focused on Moran hoping against hope that my cover was exposed the way I thought it might be. But in my heart of hearts I knew that I had been exposed.

Moran shouted, “Kneel!”

Our knees hit the hard wood floor before we knew what we were doing.

I looked down to see a thin rivulet of blood trickling in front of me. I quickly deduced that it was from Harold.

Moran ran through a set of commands. I heard the sound of whips coming down on the backs of my fellow slaves who were not fast enough. I was spared any correction.

This went on for what seemed forever but I sort out to be about six hours.

We were blindfolded again and taken back to our cells of total darkness probably to contemplate our situation.

The next several days of instruction were harsh. We were tested and ‘taught’ how we were supposes to behave. At one point we lost another of our number to Moran’s gun. He killed her right in front of us so we all got a good view of her brains being splattered all over the floor.

In the dark we whispered to each other. Trying to keep something of ourselves alive but each day became harder and harder. Eventually the whispering stopped for the most part. It was replaced by moans and sounds of pain as we were ‘taught’ our lessons well.

Darkness became our comfort. When we were in the dark, no harm seemed to come to us.

Then one morning on command I knelt in my cell waiting to be drug up to our training room. I was hooded and pulled up only one flight of steps. My hands were pushed onto to a bar causing my ass to stick out. I was ordered not to move. I felt an invasion of my ass with a tube of some sort and shortly I felt liquid filling my bowels. My stomach distended at the pressure of the liquid inside me and cramps started taking over my attention.

“Hold it,” cam the command and a plug was inserted in my ass fixing the contents with in.

The cramping became worse the longer I was forced to stay in that position.

I tried to keep all sound to myself but a groan escaped my lips and I promptly felt a sharp blow against my backside that caused me to loose the plug and the liquid erupted from my bowels.

There was a lot of swearing and I was beating until I lost continuousness.

I came to hanging in what I assumed was my cell. I was sadly mistaken.

The hood obscuring my view was removed and I found myself in what look to me to be a medieval torture chamber with various pieces of apparatus that I could only guess the purpose of.

My shoulders ached from being pulled to the point that I was almost hanging by my wrists alone. I quickly got my feet under me trying to take the pressure off my arms. My back and buttocks protested as I could feel every stripe of the beating I had endured.

I spent sometime gathering information about the room I was in when I heard a door open behind me. I assumed that the creak of the hinge was on purpose to add to the tension in the room and the subject within.

Someone came up behind me and ran their finger across the stripes on my back. I jerked at bit at the touch but tried to stay still. A hiss of pain escaped my lips before I could stop it.

I heard a chuckle behind me. It was a sound that I would learn to dread hearing.

Moran came into my vision and said, “I have been informed it is time for your private tutoring. You are privileged indeed to have been picked for this highest of honors.”

He uncoiled the whip he held in his hand and snapped it with a loud crack. He stepped back and looked over my shoulder apparently waiting for a signal.

I heard in my right ear,” Here are the rules to the game. You make a sound, you forfeit.”

A hand slapped my rump hard making the marks from my previous beating reignite the flames of pain.

I steeled myself remembering what you taught me.

The first strike went across my right pectoral with the second matching on my left. Moran was very skilled with the whip making patterns on my body with a flick of his wrist.

I held out for as long as I could but eventually I succumb to the pain and found myself screaming to stop this torture.

“Forfeit my dear,” said a voice.

“Not fair my dearest,” said another voice almost exactly like the first.

“What shall we have our slave do?” said voice one

“He has to learn how to keep quiet,” replied voice two

“And how shall we do that?”

“Maybe put something in his mouth to keep him quiet?”

“Capital idea!”

I heard the snap of fingers and the chains that held me up were released causing me to crumple to the ground as my legs would not hold me up. I cried out as my abused body hit the stone floor.

My collar was grabbed and I was forced to kneeling.

“Moran my pet, I think you deserve a reward. In fact you are allowed release,” said voice one

“Thank you Master. Thank you,” Moran looked like he had been given the most wonderful present in the world.

“Now let’s not have a repeat of last time Sebastian,” said voice 2, “I don’t want to have to bury this one too.”

Moran grinned an evil grin and opened his trousers pulling out his rather massive cock. You have heard the phrase hung like a horse? Well that phrase was made for him. I had never seen such length and girth outside of animals in the zoo.

He grabbed my hair and proceeded to rape my mouth with his cock. No mercy was given. I tried to breath through my nose and around the hard member going down my throat. It was hard. He seemed to take great glee in choking me until I would show signs of passing out and then he would back off. This game when on for a while until I heard the command “come!” and he came down my throat. I felt as if I was drowning and the world went dark.

Chapter Text

Holmes stopped for a moment in his narrative. He looked distressed.

I took his hand in mine and said, “There is no shame in what happened. You didn’t do anything. Things were done to you.”

I saw a tear fall and then another. I tried to sit up but my body protested.

Holmes saw what I was doing and stopped me from moving.

“I know that John. But knowing and believing can be two entirely different things.”

I carefully moved myself over to the far side of my bed and patted the mattress.

“I don’t think that would be…”

“Sir, your slave need you.”

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and got into bed with me. There were some adjustments and then we settled into each other’s arms.

“I tried to escape more than once. I figured that I had been discovered so why stay around. I was not going to find the proof that Mycroft needed at this point.”

“I am sure that you succeeded escaping,” I said, “it was eluding further capture that you failed at.”

He laughed a hardy laugh. It was like water in the desert to my ears. I hadn’t heard that sound from him since before we had started this mad venture.

“Ah Watson, I don’t think I tell you often enough that you are a rare treasure indeed. You, sir, have a wicked sense of humor.”

I smiled at the praise.

He propped his head up on one arm and looked at me, “Can you forgive me?”

“For what? This? This was nothing,” I said gesturing at my bandaged body.

“For all of it. For not listening to your sage advice at the beginning of this mess. For not being able to get back to you a whole man. For Mary. For our sons who you haven’t had the chance to see grow up. For taking you to the point where you didn’t want to live anymore. All of this is my doing.”

I took his other hand and put it on my heart, “But I am still here. My heart beats for you Master and only you. We will see our sons. I have and will morn the loss of Mary in my life but there is nothing to say that she would not have died anyway in childbirth besides she would have gone off to India with her mistress leaving me as alone as I was after she died. You were stupid and headstrong for going through with this mad plan but you are here with me.”

His hand rested on my heart and I could feel his breathing matching my own. He stayed there for a bit and then drew his hand back.

“But for how long?”

“Sorry?”

“But for how long will I be with you?” He tapped the side of his head, “Who is to say that when you wake up it won’t be with me but someone else from inside my head.”

I took his hand and slowly kissed each finger pad then the palm of his hand.

“They are all part of you Holmes. We just have to get them to agree to that and work you back to a whole.”

His lids were at half-mast while I continued to lavish my lips and tongue on his hand. I took his thumb into my mouth and started sucking on it. He groaned a pleasurable groan.

“Oh Watson, what you do to me,” he said taking my hand and placing it on his crotch.

I could feel the hard member under his robes. I worked my hand through them to where I could touch skin. I fondled his balls and felt his cock come to full attention.

I smiled and continued my ministration of both his thumb and his cock.

He rolled over onto his back and said with a smile, “I am undone.”

I felt his release on my hand as he cried out my Christian name.

I smiled and wiped my hand on the bedclothes. Then snuggled in with my Master who put his arm around me and whispered, “A treasure indeed.”

We fell asleep and did not wake until the monks came to change my bandages the next morning.

Chapter Text

The next morning after my wounds had been attended to, we found ourselves out in the garden that I had come to love. Holmes helped me sit on a stone bench and left me there for a moment. He returned with blankets and wrapped me up against the chill in the air. He sat down next to me and we just sat in silence enjoying each other’s presence.

He shifted and cleared his throat.

“Holmes, if you don’t care to continue….”

He cut me off with a hand gesture, “No, I need to….”

He sighed a heavy sigh, “You need to know.”

And he continued his narrative.

* * * * *
The next couple of weeks were a blur. I kept some idea of how long it was by the marks I made on the wall to give myself some idea of time.

Our ‘lessons’ were expanded and we were tested both in groups or individually. We watched two more people die in front of us and several others just vanished.

We were informed as a group that we were going to be part of the slaves used at the next party that our owners were throwing. We were divided into three groups and were assigned teachers to trains us for our tasks.

The day of the soiree I was outfitted with a butt plug and a cock cage with a clever leather belt holding both contraptions in place. I thought how you would have liked this on your person so I could tease you mercilessly. There was a red collar locked around my neck. I was informed that this would tell the patrons that I was off limits and this was a good thing. I was wash and oiled up. My beard was trimmed and my hair was pulled back and tied off.

I found myself handing out and picking up glasses of various forms of drink for the evening. I observed the goings on and catalogued the people attending.

At one point I was picking up abandon mugs and glasswear when I heard behind me, “Johan? I hadn’t expected to see you here. How have you been?”

I turned and recognized one of Mycroft’s associates that I had been introduced to. The fact that he used the name we had all agreed upon was a signal to me that he was here under Mycroft’s orders.

“I have been well Sir,” I said cautiously, “No complaints.” I slightly shook my head.

His eyes widened as my signal had been noted but the he nodded and said, “I am sure your Master and Mistress were very sad to have to sell you. I will tell them that I saw you in your new home next time our paths crossed.”

I gave him a slight bow and took my tray to the kitchen. I placed the used items where I had been instructed and went for another tray of drinks to pass out to the guests.

I pass out the beverages while in the presences of Mycroft’s man who was watching me closely. I tapped out what had happened on my tray in Morse code along with Mycroft’s own spin on it which made it look like I had a nervous tick rather than that I was passing on information. I handed him the last glass on my tray and noted that he tapped out acknowledged so I knew that my message has been delivered.

I noticed that Moran was taking great interest in me since my exchange with Mycroft’s minon. I cautioned the man and then went to collect more glass wear trying not to see all the horrible things that were being done to various slaves as I went.

I was on my way down to the kitchen again when I was grabbed from behind. The tray went crashing to the floor.

“Aw did I make you drop that? Why don’t you bend over and pick that up and show me your pretty firm ass?” came a voice that I did not recognize. I was spun around and slammed into the wall. I recognized the person as Lord Simion. He was the third son of a minor Lord in the royal line and was a well know neer-do-well. He had three broken engagements and one wife that died under mysterious circumstance to his name. His face was red from drink. His hair was unkempt and greasy. His clothes were very worn. Time had not been kind to him or his visage.

I said, “This one is sorry Sir. But this one is charged with serving food and beverage.”

He reached around and grabbed my ass while pressing his body against me. He wiggled a finger under the strap and felt the plug that had been inserted in my ass.

“Oh no my pretty. You are prepared to take it up your bum and that’s what you are going to do after you suck my cock.”

He grabbed my collar with one hand and forced me down to my knees while undoing his trouser fly with his other hand. He fumbled and pulled out his prick which was at half mast. He started to choke me trying to get me to open my mouth.

About the time I was about to give up and let him have his way, he was pulled off me violently and tossed down the corridor. He landed on the mugs and broken glass that littered the floor.

I fell forward gasping for breath.

“What the hell are you doing Simion! He is wearing a red collar. You know the rules. Red is off limits. You are lucky that I found you before you did something you couldn’t take back,” came a voice I knew all too well.

“Moran, it was just a bit of fun. I didn’t mean anything by it. Besides he wanted it. He asked me to give him some form of release.”

There was a tap on my back and the order, “Present.”

I knelt up and placed my hands on my knees.

“Look at me.”

I looked at Moran directly in the eye. He studied my face and nodded.

“You are a liar.”

I heard coming down the corridor the voice of my Mistress, “Who is a liar Moran?”

Moran’s knees hit the stone floor with a crack that made me wince.

“Mistress, Lord Simion has apparently taken leave of his senses and decided to rape your property.”

“I did no such thing!” came the protest as Simion got gingerly to his feet, “The slave was begging me…”

I saw Moriarty hold up her hand and he stopped talking.

She came over and tapped me on the shoulder, “Up.”

I stood up and placed my hands behind my back. She walked around me examining my throat and the harness around my waist.

“Johan, did you do anything to entice this man?”

“No Master,” I said in a very rough voice.

“He’s lying!” said Simion but there was a tone of fear in his voice.

“Johan, tell me what happened to you.”

I told her what I told you and she listened carefully. Simion tried to interrupt but found himself being held by Moran with his arm painfully behind his back.

I finished and stood at attention.

Moriarty patted me like one would a horse or a dog, “You are a good slave Johan. I believe what you are telling me.”

She turned to Simion who looked like he was about to wet himself. His cock was still exposed but it had serious shrunk.

She grabbed him by the cock and pulled his balls out of his clothing.

“You know the rules my dear. And I know you have also broken them more than once. On the other occasions, your forfeit was paid by the slave that you violated because they had allowed you to do as you will. Johan is a good slave. He followed his Master’s orders. So left or right?”

“Excuse me?” squeaked Simion.

She grabbed him by the balls and twisted hard. Simion lets out a howl of pain. He tried to pull free of Moran’s grip but his efforts were fore naught.

“Which of your balls do you want to keep? Left or Right?”

It was at that point he pissed himself or rather pissed and dribbled over his clothes and it splashed onto my Master’s dress.

The silence was deafening as everyone looked at what just happened.

She pulled a knife from her sleeve and slashed quickly. She held his ball sack in her hand showing him what she had done.

The blood flowed from the injury and Simion gave a choking gasp before Moran let go and he fell into a heap.

“I think I am going to enjoy eating these,” She said as she looked at the grisly package in her hand.

I watched as Simion bled out. The pool of blood lapped by my bare feet.

She said, “Moran, take care of this mess,” gesturing to the slaughter house the corridor had become.

“Yes Sir,” said Moran.

Moriarty snapped her fingers at me and said, “Follow.”

I dropped into step behind her and followed her back to the party where she kept me next to her the rest of the evening.

Chapter Text

It was after that party that I found myself the focus of Moriarty. I don’t know if Moran had figured out if I had passed a message on or that I watched a patron die in front of me. Either way, I was under their scrutiny.

I was installed as both valet and maid for Moriarty. Each I would help dress in the fashion that they wished to wear that day. The one rule that they seem to have was only one could wear feminine dress. I noticed that one seemed to prefer presenting their female face to the world but it did not mean that the other didn’t do the same.

As I got to know Moriarty, I thought I understood them. But every time I thought I had things sorted out, they would do something that would have me work through my data again.

I was informed that I was to go with them while they restocked their merchandize. We traveled to the south of France to another castle where slaves were bought and sold outside the purview of the Marketplace. Moriarty called it the second hand market.

Moran kept a close eye on me the entire time but at one point I did try to escape only to become part of the entertainment as I was hunted down like an animal by the guests at the castle. They took their time calling the dogs off of me and used their whips and crops to continue their fun. By the end of it, I was practically naked with only shreds of cloth around my body.

“Oh Johan,” said Jamie, “I am so disappointed. You know that you will have to be punished for this.”

I was trusted up like a deer and carried back to the castle only to be tossed in a very cold room and left there. I managed to work myself out of my bonds and was about to give a go at the door lock when I heard a key being turned and found myself looking at Moran along with three of my fellow slaves.

“You should have learned your lessons. I told you what would happen if you do not obey,” He almost looked sad for me then gestured to my fellow slaves, “grab him and bring him to the sitting room.”

I was roughly grabbed and not given any chance to get my feet under me so I was dragged up the stairs and through the castle to a very large room with a chair firmly attached to the floor with straps attached at various places. I was pushed into the chair and strapped down firmly with my head being strapped to the chair as well.

Moran pulled out a knife and ripped off any cloth I had left on my body.

I watched at the slaves place chairs in a semi circle with my chair being the focal point.

I tried to ask questions but no one would talk to me. Moran finally put a leather bit gag in my mouth.

James and Jamie came in and examined the wounds already on my body.

“Moran, clean him up a bit. We can’t have him bleeding all over the carpet.” She stroked my face almost lovingly.

“Oh why could you just behave? We could have had our fun and then we would have let you go only after negotiating your release with that stuffed shirt brother of yours. But now you have made things a little too dangerous for us. So ‘Johan’ you must learn your place in the order of things.”

Moran did as he had been ordered.

I tried to relax and settle my mind.

The guests started to file in with their slaves in attendance. They seated themselves and I heard chatter about the hunt and other activities that had happened that day.

Jamie appeared and came to the center of the circle.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to another in a series of lectures to educate and edify. Tonight Dr. Langstrom is going to demonstrate a very interesting technique of dislocating and relocating joints. This can be very useful for discipline of a recalcitrant servant.”

I could feel a cold sweat breaking out as I realized what was about to happen to me.

“Now we want to make sure that the subject can feel the pain but we don’t need it to fight what we are doing.”

She gestured and Moran handed her a hypodermic needle.

“This is one of the concoctions that we talked about at this afternoon’s session. It will allow the subject to feel but not move.”

She inserted the needle at the base of my neck into my spine and I could feel the liquid enter me. I tried to struggle but I could feel my muscles no longer obeying my mind.

After a time, I could only move my head but not every much due to the straps.

She ran her hand across my naked chest. I could feel it and the breeze that followed. It was the most intense feeling I had ever encountered. It was like my nerves were overly sensitive.

They unstrapped my right arm. I desperately tried to get it to move or even get a finger to move but nothing.

A man came in and bowed to the group. His accent was Austrian.

“Honored company, I am pleased to be able to show you the techniques that some of us discussed earlier.”

He turned to Moriarty and asked, “Is he left handed or right handed?”

“It doesn’t matter. Proceed.”

He gave a slight bow to his hosts and came over to me. He picked up my left hand and examined it and then the right.

“There has been previous damage. It might not be…”

“Proceed.”

He looked me in the eye and shrugged, “Let’s start with the fingers.”

He proceeded to clinically explain how he was pulling my fingers out of joint. The pain was incredible. But when he showed how to put them back, I passed out.

I was revived and the pain radiated through my arm. He then dislocated my right shoulder and my left knee. He put them back in place and I again passed out from the pain. I was now grateful for the gag because it was keeping me from breaking my teeth.

This went on for a number of hours. Each time I passed out, I was revived and the demonstration was started again.

He finished putting me back together and bowed to the polite applause of the crowd.

But they were not done with me. The audience was then invited to try what they had learned on me and some other slaves that were brought in and drugged.

I finally passed out and could not be revived as my brain just shut down from the pain.

I came back to contentiousness on a cot with my limbs tied up to keep my joints in place. I realized that the gag was still in my mouth and I had also been tied to the cot.
Moriarty came over to me and said, “You did very well ‘Johan’. You endured your punishment well so we have agreed you deserve a treat.”

They took another hypodermic and inserted it in my vein. I could feel the pain leaving my body and a feeling of euphoria. I smiled and thank them for their kindness.

I should have spat in their face.

As I found myself slipping away, my final thought was that I was in much more trouble than any of us expected.

Chapter Text

Holmes stopped talking and shuttered.

“Holmes, if you do not wish….”

He held up his hand and I went silent.

“It’s not that. I just…I…”

I then realized that he was trying to fight back tears. I unwrapped myself and took him into my arms.

He whispered, “I don’t want you to be disappointed in me.”

“Holmes?” I asked “How could I be?”

He rolled up his sleeve showing his bare arm and the scarring from needles. The scars were both old and new.

“You worked so hard to get me to stop taking various substances that were detrimental for my well being. And they broke me. Now I need the vapor of the poppy to keep my body from falling apart.”

“Shhhhhh,” I said and took his arm in my hands, “You had no choice. They drugged you. They made you an addict.”

“Again,” he said very bitterly.

“Sorry?”

“When you came into my service, I used certain substances to keep my mind from tearing itself apart. Or so I thought. You became my drug substitute and soothed me when my mind was racing. You and Mycroft worked so hard to get me to see what I was doing to myself and helped me to stop. Now I am again hopelessly addicted and I do not see any way out.”

“Holmes, this is different. You did not go out and procure these concoctions, they were forced upon you. And according to Yama after your body becomes stronger, you will be able to stop the drugs they have you on.”

I could tell this didn’t not comfort him. Then a thought came to me and sprung to my lips before I could stop it.

“You enjoyed it,” I said, “You feel guilty because at times you enjoyed the drugs.”

He gave me such a look of dread and hopelessness. I gave name to that dark thought that had been running around in his head.

I put on my Doctor voice, “It’s to be expected considering your past history of use. The cravings never really go away but you find ways of dealing with them. We will get through this together. We have done it before and we will do it again as many times as we need.”

He mumbled something.

“I apologize but I did not hear what you said.”

“I release you,” he said louder.

“No you don’t,” I replied, “We have a contract and a rather permanent one if you care to remember.”

“You deserve better John. Better than a broken man with voices in his head. Better than not knowing who you are going to deal with on a daily basis. I am not the man you need to serve.”

“However you are the man I want to serve,” I said, “I made a commitment to you and yours as you did to me. Nothing has changed that would make me doubt myself for signing that paper which gave you mastery over me.”

He blew up, “EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED! LOOK AT YOURSELF! LOOK AT WHAT I DID TO YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS AND TELL ME YOU WANT THIS! I COULD HAVE KILLED YOU!”

I gestured to my body, “This? This is nothing.”

I then gestured to him, “You? You are everything to me.”

He paused and took a deep breath then let it out slowly, “Even after all this? Even after you having to travel the globe to find me? You still wish for my touch?”

I took his head in my hands and kissed his forehead, “I wish for your touch.”

I then kissed him on the right cheek, “I wish for your commands.”

I followed that with a kiss on the left cheek, “I wish for your discipline.”

I kissed him on the lips, “I wish to be your most abject slave in all things.”

He smiled a sad smile, “Ah my treasure, what did I do to deserve you?”

“Everything.”

We heard a throat being cleared and found that Yama and Delek had joined us in the garden.

“Gentlemen,” said Yama, “We have some news for you that came by caravan.”

“I thought the last had gone out,” I said.

“Apparently this was a special one from the elder Mr. Holmes sent for Holmes the younger.”

“The message?” asked Holmes holding his hand out. Yama gave him the envelope which he opened and read.

“Apparently we need to stay dead a while longer Watson. Mycroft along with his compatriots have managed to dismantle most of Moriarty’s network but there are still a few pieces to pick up before it is all done. We will have to depend on your hospitality until the spring thaw.”

Delek said, “I wouldn’t have it any other way. You are healing Mr. Holmes but you are not healed. You have a long way to go before you are back to normal.”

“Or as normal as he gets, “ I said with a chuckle.

Holmes cuffed me once about the head, “Behave.”

“Your brother sent you a few items that he thought you might be able to use. We put the trunks in your rooms.”

“Trunks?” I asked.

“There is one for you as well Dr. Watson.”

“Shall we go see what my brother has sent to us at no little cost?”

I followed Holmes back to our rooms to find two steamer trucks awaiting us.

Holmes pulled two keys out of the envelope and handed me one of them. we unlocked the trunks and found that Mycroft had resupplied us for the journey home. There was clothing of various weights, under garments, a gun for me, medical supplies, money, and carefully packed in Holmes’ trunk was his precious violin.

He gave a glad cry at seeing it. He sat down on the bed and just held the case in his lap.

“Aren’t you going to open it?”

He nodded and undid the clasps. He opened the cover reverently and pulled out the violin. He tightened the strings and tuned it. I saw the soft look that came over his face as he got the instrument just so. He placed it on the bed next to him and pulled out the bow and tightened it. I took the case and placed it on the nightstand. He tucked it under his chin and plucked the strings. He looked frighten for a moment before he pulled the bow across the strings. He went through some simple scales all the while adjusting the strings and the bow tension until he had it where he wanted it. He started with a simple tune and, after a few fits and starts, worked his way to the more complex.

I sat and watched him work his way. I found myself wiping tears away as I listening to the sad and soulful sound he was making.

He finished an aria that I knew he particularly loved. He carefully and lovingly placed the violin and bow into the case and fastened the clasps.

I saw that his shoulders were shaking. I checked his fingers, which he had done some damage to by playing for so long. His face was wetter than mine with tears still rolling down his cheeks.

“Lie down Holmes. Let me take care of you.”

He nodded and did as I had asked him to do. I got a basin of water and cleaned his hands examining the blisters that had been created and popped while he had been playing. Nothing was too dire but I bandaged them to be careful.

I massaged his hands and arms, which had started to cramp. He drifted as I worked and by the time I was done, he was asleep.

I walked out to get my thoughts together only to find a monk waiting for me. He led me to Yama’s study where I found a scotch already poured for me.

I took a pull and waited.

Yama came in after I had consumed about half the glass. He topped my drink off and poured himself one before sitting across from me.

“Dr. Watson, slave of Sherlock Holmes,” he started and then stopped.

He shook his head and said, “No. Not formal. John, talk to me. What is going on with your Master? We all heard the music that he created and it sang to our souls.”

I sighed, “I wish I knew. I have never seen him like this before.”

“But he is talking to you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a start. Delek thinks that talking about what happened will help him heal. And the more information you can give us, the better we can help him.”

I gave him what Holmes had told me so far and promised to continue to tell them everything that I learned. Yama checked over my body and changed the bandages that needed changing.

“Please tell Mr. Holmes that we would love to hear him play again when he is ready. Now finish your drink and go back to your Master.”

I did as ordered and went back to my room. I stripped and curled up next to my Master. He put his arms around me and sighed a happy sigh in his sleep.

My mind was a whirl with all that had happened and everything Holmes had told me but I quickly found myself asleep.

Chapter Text

I awoke with Holmes having pushed me behind him. He was placing his body between me and what he perceived as a danger. He was growling low in his throat.

I moved but he shoved me back so I went limp.

“Doctor Watson,” I heard a voice say, “Are you all right?”

“I am fine. I suggest for your safety you leave.”

There was a rapid discussion between the people in the room.

“Gentlemen, please leave. You are agitating him. Bring some food and put it outside the door. No one is to enter until I allow it.”

I heard the men leave and the door close.

I gently stroked Holmes back and leg like one would do to calm a horse or large dog.

“Hey, hey it is fine. We are fine,” I said soothingly.

I could feel his body relax a bit. I shifted to get around him but found myself pinned to the bed by Holmes rather painfully.

“Alright, we will stay here for a bit,” I said trying to calm him down. I finally got him to lie down next to me but he would not let me out from behind him. I stroked his hair and muttered words that I hoped would comfort him. Eventually he let me get up but was very wary if I went near the door going to the point of tackling me when I touched the door handle. He placed himself between me and the door and grunted. Unless he was manhandling me, he kept himself on all fours.

“I know you are trying to keep me safe. But we are fine here.”

He growled and pushed me away from the door.

“I need to get our food. I promise that I will just get the tray that is outside of the door.”

He shook his head. I sighed and got the collar that was on the table and buckled it around his neck.

“Sit!” I said in a very commanding voice. He did as ordered.

“Stay!”

I stepped toward the door and he whined but did not move. I quickly opened it and picked up the tray of food. I brought it back in and placed it on the floor.

“Come,” I said.

Holmes crawled over to me and placed his head in my lap. I stroked his hair and managed to get him to eat from my hand.

I had him mostly settled when the door opened. Holmes immediately came up and between me and the door.

Delek entered.

I watched Holmes relax and if he had a tail, he would have been wagging it. He went over to Delek to talk to him as if he was a dog and petting him. I know I had been doing the same thing but it was disturbing.

While Delek kept Holmes occupied, Yama slipped in and checked me over.

“You are bleeding,” he said.

Some stitches had been jarred at some point in my being ‘protected’ by Holmes.

Delek kept his voice in the tone that he had been talking to Holmes who was practically asleep in his lap.

“This is progress Dr. Watson. Rather than trying to kill you, he is trying to protect you. Somewhere he knows that you were in danger and he is protecting you from whatever you had been threatened with rather than him being the threat.”

Yama nodded, “I agree. You are changing him for the better.”

Delek sat there as Holmes slept in his lap.

Yama got me back up on the bed and took care of my wounds.

Holmes started stirring in his sleep but Delek calmed him and he slipped deeper.

Monks came in and transferred Holmes from the floor to the bed.

I sat next to him watching him sleep. Eventually I joined him because I was falling asleep.

I awoke with a hand over my mouth and an arm around my neck.

“Not a sound,” came a voice that I hadn’t heard from Holmes before. I had no idea who I was dealing with.

“I am going to remove my hand from your mouth. If you scream, I will snap your neck. Now nod if you understand.”

I did as ordered and nodded.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Doctor John Watson.”

The hand tightened on my neck, “Try again. John Watson is dead. He died in the Afghan Campaign.”

“I am John Watson. I was wounded in the Afghan Campaign. The wound was infected and I had a case of enteric fever, which mustered me out of the army. I am no longer a surgeon but a general practitioner in London. I have a scar where the bullet went through.”

I could feel him adjust behind me while he looked for the proof I had offered.

“You were wounded but that does not make you Watson.”

“How do you know me?”

“They told me that John Watson was a delusion I made based on a newspaper article I read.”

“Who are you?”

“Sherlock Holmes.”

“And what do you do Mr. Holmes?”

I heard a laugh that I hope never to hear again. It chilled me to my core.

“According to them, I am a madman with delusions of grandeur who tried to upend a secret society of slave owners. And very nearly succeeded until they found me. So again who are you?”

“Hamish,” I said thinking quickly.

“So Hamish, by the look of you, you have been in service for quite sometime. Do you want to escape or are you one who will tell me that you like where you are?”

“It depends,” I said carefully, “Where do you think we are?”

At that point the door opened and a monk entered with our breakfast.

Holmes grabbed my neck harder and said,” Come any closer and I will snap his neck.”

I said in the language of the monestary, “Go and tell Yama that someone else has emerged. Another Sherlock Holmes.”

“What did you say?”

“What you just said, “ I choked out from my throat. Breathing was becoming an issue.

“You speak their lingo?”

I nodded as speaking was not currently happening.

He realized the amount of pressure he was putting on my neck and released his hold quite a bit.

“So you could help me,” he said, “Will you?”

“Yes. Now another man is going to knock at the door and ask permission to enter. He is a friend and can help you.”

Right at that moment I heard a knock and Yama’s voice, “May I enter?”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Yama. I am a monk at this temple you are in.”

“Where is this temple?”

“Tibet.”

“How did I end up here?”

“You and your companion fled here from the grasp of Moriarty. They have no power here. You are safe.”

“Call me Hamish. Not Dr. Watson. He is very agitated and has been taking it out on my neck.”

“What did you say?”

“He was telling me to be careful and that you are not a man to be trifled with. I ask that you release Hamish as you can see he has been badly used and need medical attention.”

“No! He is my assurance that you won’t try to do me harm.”

“We will not harm you. We are here to help you.”

He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, “That’s what they said before they put me in chains and tried to ‘cure’ me of my delusions. I won’t go back. I’d rather die than go back. I can’t….I…..” He started shaking and having a fit.

“Seizure!” I called to Yama and proceeded to get Holmes on his side trying to keep him from damaging himself.

Yama entered with another monk holding a tray with a cloth over it.

Holmes was fighting me all the way. Eventually I got a hold on him and Yama gave him the sedative that the monk had brought in.

“Damn you all! Damn you all to Hell!” he screamed at us right before the drug finally took hold.

I tried to get off the bed in a dignified manner but my body had other ideas and I fell flat hitting all my bruises on the way down and opening up some of my half healed cuts.

The monk helped me to the other cot in the room where Yama attended my wounds again.

“This is getting to be a bad habit Dr. Watson,” he said with a grin.

“I would prefer to be the one administering the help rather than being seen to. Had you seen that facet before?”

“No that seems to be a new one. It does fill in a piece of what we have sorted out about his captivity. I wonder what triggered it now?”

“Maybe the conversation we had yesterday?”

Yama nodded, “That may be the case. Either way, this version of his personality is dangerous. He presents a hazard to himself and us.”

I saw that they had strapped him down to the bed.

I was about to protest when Delek entered and Yama caught him up on all that had happened.

“If he returns as your Holmes, then you can release him. If he is anyone else, then it is better for all of us that he is restrained,” said Delek.

I started to protest but Delek looked at me and I knew it was useless. I nodded.

“Rest Dr. Watson,” He said placing his hands on my temples.

I found myself falling quickly to a dreamless sleep.

But right before I floated off I heard a voice say, “Now what are we going to do?”

Chapter Text

The next morning I woke up to Holmes screaming to be let go. He would be good. He was hysterical and pulling so hard against the straps that I thought he would hurt himself. When Yama came towards him with the syringe, Holmes almost dislocated his shoulders trying to get away. It was pitiful to watch. He fought the drug running through system with every ounce of strength he had until he finally succumbed to it.

“He can’t go on like this,” I said, “He is already doing himself serious injury.”

Yama nodded as he unstrapped Holmes and examined the bruises that were forming where the straps were. He shook his head, “This is not good.”

If by magic a monk entered with a straightjacket and handed it to Yama.

“That is NOT going to help!” I said, “If anything it is going to send him further into a frenzy.”

“However he will be able to do less damage to his person.”

“You are going to wear his heart out as strong as it is. You could kill him.”

“What would you have me do? If we free him, he will do harm either to himself or ourselves. If we restrain him and wait, he might come to his senses. If only we knew what happened to him that brought him to this state, we might have a chance to help him back.”

“I have an idea,” I said looking at Holmes and the straight jacket.

I watched Holmes come back to himself as the sedative wore off. They had doses him with his opiates while he was unconscious to keep his withdrawal symptoms at bay while we gave my idea a go.

He opened his eyes and look at me on the cot sitting with my back against the wall in the straightjacket. I had Holmes dresses in his nightshirt and robe that Mycroft sent. I was wearing my khet partug that was given to me by the Chief. It allowed for my bandages to not be rubbed against by tighter clothing. The straightjacket had been set up so I could get out of it if I needed to.

“Holmes,” I slurred as if I had been seriously drugged.

He sat up amazed that he was not restrained until he realized that there was a harness around him that was attached to the wall. He tried to figure a way out of it for a bit and tested the limits all the time muttering to himself. I caught that he was giving himself information to help him remember who he was.

“Did they give you a treatment?” he said sitting cross-legged on the bed.

“Drugs,” I said playing that I was trying to fight through something in my system. I had watched Holmes in this condition enough I figured I could fool him.

“What treatment?” I asked.

He looked very fearful.

“How do I know you aren’t here to get me in trouble? How do I know that you aren’t a spy for them? That you are going to tell them that …..”

“You are still you?”

He lunged at me in a sheer panic but the chain stopped him short of being able to land a hand on me. He then went back to his bed and curled up in a ball saying, “I’ll be good” and “no more treatments” over and over.

I let him rattle on a bit and then gave the signal to the people outside the door who were watching.

Two monks dressed as orderlies came in and hauled me off the bed. I fought them but they dragged me out of the room.

I could see Holmes rush at the men who were manhandling me. One gave him a well placed kick that knocked him back and the wind out of him. They got me out and slammed the door as Holmes shouted at them to take him not me.

I shouted as I was taken down the passage and stopped once we went around the corner. A monk slammed a heavy door with a sound that reverberated through the hallways.

Yama helped me out of the jacket and said,” Now what?”

“Now I get something to eat and we wait a bit,” I said stretching to loosen up my arms after my confinement.

I had a leisurely meal and used the facilities before donning the straightjacket again.

“What has he been doing since I left?” I asked.

“He has been pleading for your return for the most part,” said one of the monks who had been watching, “He is very concerned for your safety.”

“What does he think that you are doing to me?”

The monk shrugged, “Whatever it is, it must have been bad.”

I nodded, “Let’s see if I can find out what it was.”

I was manhandled back to my cot and dumped with the orders to behave.

I rolled over to see Holmes looking at me very intently. After a short while he relaxed and said, “Good. They didn’t do it.”

“Do what?” I asked pushing myself round to a seated position.

“The treatment,” he said.

“What is the treatment? You keep going on about it but I haven’t a clue what you are talking about.”

He shuttered and said in a low voice, “When they take you into the room of pain, strap you down to the metal table, force a gag in your mouth, and attach wires to points on the straps which have a small metal plates attached to them. They change the position of them from time to time but always attached to the head.”

He put his hands to his head where the burns were still faintly evident. I could see he was shaking.

“They tell you things about yourself. Things they want to be true but are false. They tell you over and over and then you hear the whirl and your body explodes in pain as the lighting hits you. And they tell you again before the lighting is released through your body. Until they believe that you believe what you are told or you pass out and cannot be revived, they continue. Afterwards they clean you up since the lighting makes you soil yourself and put you back in your cage. If you are good, you get food and something for the pain.”

He started rocking back and forth and crying softly cradling his arms around him protectively.

I stomped my foot as a signal and the monks came in and took me out all the time Holmes pleading with them to leave him alone.

I told Yama and Delek what Holmes had described to me and they were appalled.

“I am amazed that he has any sanity at all considering what was done to him,” said Yama.

“Does this help?” I asked.

Delek said, “Yes, now I think we can help him find himself. This makes some of the things he has said as various parts of himself make much more sense.”

Yama nodded, “So Dr. Watson you got us to this point, how should we play this one out?”

“Drug me and put me back in the room with Holmes unrestrained. I need to comfort him but I want it to look real to allay his suspicions.”

They did as I requested and I found myself back in the room with Holmes but free to move about unimpeded.

“Watson?” came the voice from the other side of the room.

I rolled over to find Holmes watching me like a hawk.

He whispered, “I know it is you. I know that you are not a hallucination or not real. No matter what they try to do to me, I can hang onto you.”

I sat up slowly as the room spun around.

“Holmes, can I come sit by you?”

He let out a sob and said, “Yes.”

I went over and put my arms around him. He put his arms around my waist and started to cry.

I could hear him say, “I knew you were real. I knew it. They couldn't take you away from me.”

I found tears rolling down my cheeks as I listen to him. I held him and stroked his hair until he fell asleep and I quickly followed him.

Chapter Text

I awoke to Holmes nuzzling the back of my neck. His hand was slung over my belly and was starting to go lower. I could feel myself responding to the touch but I willed myself to stop as I did not know who I was in bed with.

I rolled over and found Holmes looking at me with such adoration I felt myself blush.

I said, “Holmes?”

“Yes, John?” came the reply.

I knew which Holmes was in front of me and I grabbed his head and smashed my lips against his.

He did not object but went along with the activity until I broke it off.

“Who was here?” he asked with concern.

“You but not you,” I replied.

“Explain,” he ordered and I told him about the other Holmes and what he had told me.

When I finished I noticed a look of shame ghost across his face but quickly vanish.

“I remember that room. I did not encounter it until after the Baron returned me to Moriarty. I barely remember what happened in the room apparently I ‘went away’ as Delek has told me to preserve my fragile sense of self that was being eroded away.”

“You have mentioned the Baron before,” I said, “How does he fit into this story?”

Holmes seemed in pain.

“Never mind Holmes,” I said putting a hand on his chest and stroking it gently.

“No, you have a right to know what happened,” said Sherlock with a sigh and he told me his tale.

As you know Watson, I had become the demonstration slave for Moriarty. If they were going to have someone show how to do a technique, I was their first choice for this duty.

It was during this time that I first became addicted to the concoction that they pumped into my veins as a reward. They used it to control me better than any restraint or leash could.

I met the Baron the first time when he used a single tail whip on me as a lesson for their clients. He was almost clinical about how he presented his skill. I was then used for test practice by the people who wanted to try to match his abilities.

He stood in front of the frame I had been strapped to and watched my face as I was whipped and manhandled. Apparently there was something in my face that he liked.

I found out through a fellow slave that the Baron had made an offer for me that Moriarty had refused and informed the Baron I was not for sale. The Baron decided that this was a challenge and kept using me in his demonstration but he started adding pleasure to the pain. He would watch my reaction to things very carefully. He seemed to be cataloging me.

Then one day I was informed that I was no longer going to be given any drugs. I had to get clean for my new owner.

It was a miserable month while my body worked through the drugs that they had put into my system. The Baron would come by on occasion to just watch me writhe on my cot as my body went through withdrawal. I pleaded and begged for the drugs or for anything that would stop the pain coursing through my veins. Eventually I could feel my mind coming back to me and I felt like myself.

One day I was taken in front of Moriarty and forced to my knees.

Jamie said, “I don’t know Jim. I really don’t want him to go. Are you sure?”

Jim said, “Now Jamie, we talked about this. The Baron is the client we have been looking for if we want to advance the operation and expose our tormentors.”

Jamie got up and ran a hand through my hair before tugging it hard enough to bring tears to my eyes, “But he is the key to it all.”

Jim stood up and slapped Jamie, “Not yet! The Baron will be able to tell us when and where he will be of use.”

Jamie reached over and kissed me on the mouth rather sensually. I could feel myself responding to the touch as I had been deprived of any human contact other than kicks and punches.

“No,” said James, “It is done. Take him to his new owner.”

My arms were tied behind me with my wrists in front of me cuffed together. They put a short chain between my ankle cuffs hobbling me. Then came the ear plugs, gag and hood cutting off my sense of sight and sound. I was direct with pushes, pulls, and shoves as to where to go. I felt myself picked up and dumped into a trunk that was then loaded onto a cart that took me to a train that took me I know not where.

Passage of time is difficult at best when you are deprived of your senses. I knew that it had been a while because I could not stop myself from voiding my bladder at one point. I was cold, thirsty and hunger but my mind would give me no peace since I had very little idea what awaited me.

Eventually I was loaded off the train onto a cart and taken to what would become my new home which was the estate of the Baron.

I was taken out of my trunk or rather drug out of it since my legs and arms had become very cramped from my confinement. I was unshackled and the hood and ear plugs were removed but the gag and blindfold remained.

‘Oh shit,’ I heard in German, ‘This one pissed himself. I’m not cleaning that up.’

‘Quiet!’ came the command in German from a second voice, ‘You do not get to decide what YOU want to do so you can bloody well clean it up for the Master. I will attend to the other two. Get it ready and put it in the blue room.’

I was grabbed and shoved roughly. I didn’t have time to process where I was before the cold water hit me.

‘Turn around idiot,’ came the command and I did as I had been ordered.

The water was turned off and my hands were placed on a rail so I was bent over ass out. I knew what was coming so relaxed for the intrusion of the hose and the water filling my bowels. I was led to sit and told to let go. This process went on several times until I was deeming clean.

I was taken naked up several flights of stairs and force to kneel up on a cushion with my hands behind my head.

I waited and listened to what was going on around me. The silence was deafening. I could hear on occasion the sound of footsteps or the slap of a whip or the cry of pain and anguish.

“You are a very patient man,” came a voice in front of me. I recognized it as the Baron.

“You may remove the blindfold,” he said in perfect English.

I did as ordered and blinked a bit waiting for my eyes to adjust.

I finally was able to focus on the man in front of me. He was seated on a chair wearing a dressing gown and slippers. His hair was tousled.

He stood up and I could see he was naked under the gown. He removed the gag from my mouth and let me adjust my jaw a bit.

He put his hand under my chin and tipped my head up so I had to look at his face.

He smiled and said, “Yes, you will do very nicely.”

He opened his robe and put his hands on his hips, ”Get to it.”

I took his half hard cock into my mouth and proceeded to fellate him to orgasm in rather short order.

He pulled out coming all over my face and chest.

“Yes, you will indeed,” he said closing his robe and snapping his fingers.

Two men grabbed me and dragged me back down to the dungeon where I was thrown into a very cold cell left to wonder about my fate at the hands of the Baron.

Chapter Text

The next day I was cleaned up. My beard and hair was professional trimmed. I was dressed in a full suit. My collar was removed for the first time in a very long time. I was taken up to a study and made to sit in a chair. I felt very odd since I had not been seated clothed since we parted ways.

The Baron entered and sat behind the desk in the room.

“Johan,” he said.

“Sir?”

“Do you know why I bought you?”

“Sir, no Sir,” I said.

He laughed, “You cost me a pretty penny and I hope my guess about you is correct.”

I had no reply.

“Your duties during the day will be to tutor my two sons. They will be off to university in two years time and I want to make sure that they will do well. You will hone their English and Russian along with testing their knowledge on various subjects.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“There will be other duties including being my valet when I travel,” he said.

“Yes, Sir.”

He got up, walked around the large desk, and sat on it in front of me. He looked at me if judging something. I felt like a prize bull being sized up for slaughter.

He grabbed my face in his hand and forced me to meet his eye.

He chuckled and let go apparently satisfied with what he saw.

I found myself falling into a routine in the house. During the day I would work with his twin sons Hans and Fritz on their studies. At night I was used by the Baron in whatever manner he wanted. On many weekends I would find myself being used by the Baron and others as a test subject.

I noticed something odd about the two boys. One had a sweet and even temperament but the other had no soul. He didn’t care how he affected other people as long as he was happy. His sadistic streak came out in tormenting his brother and the slaves. He left me alone I think because his father threated his life if he touched me, but I had to clean up after the mess he made with other slaves including burying a few bodies. We had no way to tell anyone outside the house what was going on inside. The one brother tried to keep his brother in check but I could tell whatever was rotting inside was getting stronger.

After about a month, the Baron added new duties which included being his teaching tool for his boys. There were days that I did not want to go on after being used and abused to such an extent. But the thought of getting back to you Watson kept me going on. The Baron always made sure it didn’t go too far where I would be useless the next day but he did stretch the line.

Holmes paused in his narrative to collect himself. I took him in my arms and rested his head against my breast and stroked his hair, which helped him relax. He shuttered and then seem to come back to me.

It was on a dark night that everything went terribly wrong. I had no inkling that I would find myself having to end the life of another human.

It started innocently enough. I found myself bend over a chair while the Baron lectured his sons on the proper way to cane a slave. He would have them try and then correct their posture and hands to have another go. I was trying to keep upright and not really listening to what was going on so I do not know how the argument started.

I found myself grabbed by the hair and slammed to the floor. I curled up to avoid the kicks and blows that were raining down on me. I had no idea what was going on or what offence I have given for such treatment.

I could hear the Baron bellowing for his son to stop and then I saw out of the corner of my eye the Baron grab his son and threw him across the room.

“Are you insane?” he yelled, “A dead slave is a useless slave. This one is too important. He is the key.”

The other son helped me up and away from the fight whispering in my ear, “Get out of here and hide.”

I shook my head to clear it. I could barely walk.

Then I saw the knife in his hand. I shouted warning to the Baron. He turned and his son plunged the knife into his heart. The Baron looked down in surprise and then dropped to the ground.

“What have you done!?!” cried the son holding me.

“What we have talked about more than one my brother. We are now free of him and can do what we want to do.”

“But not like this!”

The young man advanced on me with the bloody knife in his hand, “Now we just need to make it look like Johan lost it and killed father. We get everything. Hold him.”

“No. Johan has done nothing to warrant this.”

“He’s a slave. He is nothing.”

I worked myself to my feet some how and turned on the advancing threat. His brother stood there watching.

It was a short fight where I got this Holmes ran his fingers over a rather ragged scar on his left side but I managed to get the knife from him.

I tried to reason with him Watson, I really did but he was having none of it. I must die according to him or I had to kill him. As you can see I am still here so you must know the conclusion.

The blood covered the marble floor making it quite slippery.

The other brother cradled his dying brother weeping for him. I stood there not knowing what to do.

Eventually he realized that I was still standing there.

“Mr. Holmes,” he said. I tried not to startle at hearing my real name spoken.

“Mr. Holmes, my father knew who you were the first time he set eyes on you. He told me how he was planning to use you to break your older brother and thus break the Marketplace through him. Don’t try to deny who or what you are to me. I do not sanction what my father was trying to do. However I cannot have you here. I will send you back to Moriarty and you may complete whatever you are trying to do.”

“What about?” I pointed to the two bodies in the room.

He sighed and said, “That is my burden to bear not yours.”

“I can help,” I said.

He looked at me and nodded. We set up the scene to make it look like they stabbed each other which, given their history, was not impossible. I stayed for the funeral and comforted my new Master. He took me to his bed and was quite tender but it could not last as upon the death of the Baron, I was to be returned to Moriarty.

Within a fortnight I found myself back at the castle and in Moriarty’s hands but something had changed while I was gone. I found myself descending into hell.

I really don’t remember much beyond that until I awoke here. It is bits and pieces of fragments of memory. I found that I was missing chunks of time and there were voices whispering in my head.

His voice trailed off. I held him close and wept for what he lost. He comforted me as I tried to comfort him and we fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Time went on. Days turned into weeks. Holmes was in control of himself more often than not. We took up learning the monastery’s fighting technique. It was interesting to me because a number of the moves mirrored what I learned in training but this was so much more elegant. I discovered that I had a knack for stick fighting and, eventually, became the champion of the monastery much to just about everyone’s surprise.

But with the good days also came the bad days when I would wake up to one of the creatures that Moriarty created through torture both physically and mentally. I heard tale of the lad who called himself Pig being strapped down to a board and then tilted headfirst before a towel was put over his face and water poured onto the towel making him think he was drowning over and over again. Of Shirley and the beatings she would receive if she didn’t perform every thing she was ordered to do perfectly. They told us their stories and I wept at what had happened to my master.

One thing kept bothering me and I found myself talking to Yama about it in the rock garden as the first hints of spring wafted through the air.

“He won’t hit me,” I said.

“Pardon me?” Yama asked.

“Since the time in the bathhouse except when he isn’t in his right mind, he hasn’t hit me.”

“And you miss it?”

“Yes! I miss it terribly. Pain for me…”

“You like it.”

“But only certain forms of it. I don’t enjoy jamming my finger or a paper-cut. But a well placed beating is heaven to me.”

Yama grinned, “That I know. But Sherlock?”

I sighed, “I think what happened to him has changed how he feels about it. It used to get him hard and ready to do all kinds of things to me. Now, he seems to be scared to even touch a whip.”

“Considering all that he has been through…” Yama started.

I cut him off, “I know. Intellectually I know why but that doesn’t stop the need or want. Moriarty’s legacy lives in him. They broke him and now I don’t know if he will ever be fixed.”

“He enjoyed beating you before?”

Memories came to mind of Holmes and his ability to take me to places that I didn’t even know I wanted to go by his hand or the cane or the whip.

Yama put up a hand, “Never mind, I can see it in your face. And if he never beats you again? Can you still call him Master?”

I thought about it and all that we had gone through, “Yes.”

He waved his hand dismissively, “Then it is a non-problem.”

But it wasn’t to my mind. I longed for the time when I wouldn’t know if I could sit properly the next day. Of Holmes taking me in hand and giving me what I needed even if I didn’t know that I did.

However part of me knew that all this was due to the torment he underwent to keep Mary and me and the rest of the Marketplace safe.

I should have known that Holmes would see though me.

“Watson,” he said while lounging in the bathhouse,” Something is troubling you.”

“It is nothing Holmes,” I said trying to put on my stoic face.

“No,” he said grabbing my wrist preventing me from leaving him, “Let’s try this again.”

I pulled at his grip but he did not let go.

He stood up still holding onto my wrist and forced me to my knees.

“Watson, I order you as your Master to tell me what is wrong.”

I sighed hoping to put off the inevitable conversation that had to be.

He looked hard at me taking in everything for a bit and then said, “Ah.”

“Ah?”

“I understand Watson and I release you. We will void the contract when we get back to London and you will find someone who can take you in hand the way you deserve.”

“No,” I said standing up and plucking my hand away from his grip.

“I’m sorry?” he said in total puzzlement.

“No. I will not void the contract. You haven’t done anything to cause me to want out from under you.”

“Watson, I can’t give you what you obviously want and need anymore. That voids it if nothing else.”

I could feel tears forming in my eyes but it was not sadness but anger that brought them forth.

“NO!” I shouted, “NO! I SHALL NOT LET YOU DO THIS.”

He looked startled at my outburst.

“Do you have any idea what it has been like for me while you were gone? You left me in London with a note telling me to go to your brother if I had needs that need to be met. My wife died. I was not allowed to go to her burial. I barely got to hold our sons before they were taken from me and given to Mycroft to raise. I tried to kill myself in my despair more than once. Mrs. Hudson managed to stop the most violent attempt and that only by distracting me so the gun discharged into a wall. I came to find you and traveled the world with only rumors and hearsay to know if you were even alive. Then when I found you, you weren’t you. I was beaten, drugged, poisoned, shot and locked up. But I still went forward to find you. And now that I have and you are here in front of me, you want to release me? You want to give up? This is the cowards way out as much as my trying to put a bullet in my head.”

He went to speak but I stopped him, “No. You will not do this. Now if you will excuse me, I think it would be better if I was elsewhere right now before we both do or saying something that we will regret more than what has already been said here.”

I quickly got dressed and went to the training room. I stripped myself to the waist and picked up the batons that I used in stick fighting. I started going through the patterns I had learned losing myself into the motion but my mind was still racing. I attacked the practice dummy again and again. I worked myself into a stupor but kept going just trying to get some relief from all that had happened. I was terrified that Holmes would go through with releasing me and that would be the end of me. I didn’t see any other way out other than killing myself and that scared me.

My arms were very tired and I was starting to have trouble lifting the sticks I was holding when Holmes entered the room. He stripped to the waist and picked up another set of batons. I went to get my shirt only to be cut off by Holmes and a well placed baton. I blocked and went for the bench where my shirt was only to have Holmes counter my block and place himself between me and the bench.

“Not now Holmes,” I said through gritted teeth.

He attacked and I defended barely. We danced around the practice ring with me on the defensive the entire time. It was not a fair fight since I had worked myself to the point of extreme fatigue but I was holding my own. Until he caught me across the left wrist with a heavy blow causing me to drop the stick I was holding. He followed that with a strike on my right and somehow got a feign in that caused me to lose the stick I was holding with my right hand. Now I was using only my hands and feet to keep him from landing blows. But it was a short fight after that as he got hit after hit on me until I fell to the ground.

He dropped the batons and gathered me up in his arms very roughly and hissed in my ear, “It is over when I say it is over. Get up.”

He pulled me to my feet and then released me. Fists and feet came flying my direction and again I defended as best I could. He took me apart in very short order and again I fell to the ground. I tried to stand but my legs would not hold me.

He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me to the bench putting my hands on the bench and kicking me to my knees.

“Don’t move,” he growled.

I heard the whistle that allowed me to brace myself as his belt hit my back. The crack of the leather on my skin and the explosion of pain almost felt like a religious experience. I did find myself getting rather hard. He beat me at a measured pace until I collapsed a third time.

He then sat on the bench and pulled me into his arms. This time with such tenderness I found myself crying again.

“Ah Watson, you are a treasure indeed. How could I even think of letting such a perfect man out of my sight? Come, let us retire for the evening. I believe both of us have thought on these matters too much.”

I let him carry me from the practice room back to our quarters where he tended the bruises that he had given me along with my other injuries.

As I fell into the arms of Morpheus, I heard him say,“Watson, I thank you for reminding me why I will never let you go.”

Chapter Text

As spring came to the mountains, Holmes and I started planning our trip back home. Or rather I was planning and Holmes was coming up with reasons why he couldn’t go back.

“No Watson, it is still too dangerous,” he said shaking his head.

“But Holmes, your brother, on the information we gave him, has rounded up the blaggards who threatened the Marketplace both in England and abroad. Moriarty is dead in whatever form they care to take. Moran too. Those who injured you so very badly are dead and gone. There is nothing to keep you from returning to our home.”

He looked at me with such a sad expression, “There is this,” he said tapping the side of his head.

“There are the pieces of me that are not part of the whole still. I am in command but I am afraid that at any minute someone else will take over and all our work will be for naught.”

“Someone else? Holmes it is all you. Fragmented or not each piece is a part of you. Some more scary than others. Some very damaged still. But you have been working with Delek and Yama and they feel that you have turned the corner on all this. You haven’t had an incident in over two weeks.”

I knelt in front of him, “Holmes, I need you. Mycroft needs you which in turn means that England needs you.”

“Two weeks of being my own man is a start,” he said rather cheerfully, “maybe your plan will work for us.”

I stood up to go but saw a look of such sadness on his face like he had lost all hope and joy in his life. Just as quickly his face shifted back to his usual public mask.

“I need to talk to Yama about setting out with the next caravan that comes through then we need to see to packing and getting ready to go home,” I said.

He waved his hand dismissing me. I bowed and left to find Yama.

He was talking to Delek in the European study they had created for Yama. I was motioned to a chair and sat down waiting for their conversation to be over.

“So Doctor Watson, you are ready to take your leave?” asked Delek.

I nodded and said, “Yes, we are. I will always be grateful to everyone here for all that you have done. If there is anything I can do for you, you have only to ask and if it is in my power I will do it.”

Delek looked at Yama and then back to me, “Leave Holmes here.”

“What?” I cried in total surprise.

“You wanted to know what you can do for us. Leave Holmes here. He will be cared for until he is ready to leave.”

“Then I will stay too,” I said.

Yama shook his head, “No, you must go back to London and your life there.”

“Without Holmes I have no life. I have gone the length and breath of the globe to find him and bring him home. Now I will not be permitted to do ever that?”

“You have a life outside of Holmes’ orbit John Watson, you just refuse to see it. If you truly serve your master, you will leave him with us until he is ready.”

“He is ready,” I argued, “He has been himself for a while now. The nightmares are few and far between. He has even gone back to being my master.”

Yama sighed, “You mean he is going through the motions to make you happy John. There is only fear in his heart when he gives you what he wants because he knows how it feels now.”

“He knew it before,” I said defiantly.

“No,” said Delek, “He only thought he knew. Now he has been a slave and, in some ways, much more a slave that you have ever been. His slavery was not by choice or conscious decision as is your servitude but inflicted and enforced on him by methods that are too evil to mention. They broke his spirit, his mind along with his body. Can you say the same of your service to him?”

Tears of anger filed my eyes and threatened to spill over, “All I wanted was to find my Master and bring him home. You shame me with all that I failed to do to protect him.”

Delek said to Yama, “He doesn’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand? Tell me what I am missing? Instruct me as to what I must do to make this right….to make him right again.”

“You must leave him,” said Yama, “This is not forever. Let us help him to become himself again.”

“But I can help him,” I said for what felt like the hundredth time.

“No, you can’t. You are hindering him,” said Delek.

“How? How am I doing that? I am his abject slave in all things. If he wants me to go, let him tell me himself.”

“He won’t” said Delek, “He doesn’t want to cause you more pain. He looks at you and see the hurt and anguish you have been in. He sees the scars you have received in your search for him. He worries about you and your attempts to take your own life. He thinks that if he send you away, then you will kill yourself.”

That stopped me cold.

“I have no plans to end my life. At the time my wife died, my children were taken from me and my master was presumed dead. Now I know my master lives and I will see my children when I go back to England. I have so much to live for.”

“Then tell him that and let him express his wishes of what he wants to do rather than what he thinks you want him to say.”

I stood up and bowed to the two men then went back to our rooms to find Holmes staring out into the courtyard where arms practice was taking place.

“Holmes?” I asked.

He nodded.

“We need to talk,” I said.

He turned to me and said, “Yes we do indeed.”

“I have been a fool. I understand why you want to stay and why I must leave.”

“You mustn’t leave Watson without me. It would ruin the plan.”

I looked at him. Something in my brain told me that things were not right here.

“What plan?” I asked.

Holmes leapt across the room and grabbed me spinning me around so his arm was across my throat choking me, “The plan where I kill dear Mycroft and then pin the blame on you of course. But since you won’t cooperate, I am going to just have to settle for killing you.”

I saw the flash of the knife before he buried it in my chest.

As the world went dark I heard Holmes say in a sing-song voice, “My name is not Holmes, it’s Leslie my dear fool.”

And then I heard no more.

Chapter Text

I was told after the fact that the next couple of weeks were touch and go.

I honestly don’t remember much but bits and pieces of conversation through the pain that my body was in. Breathing hurt. Thinking hurt. Any thing and everything hurt.

Hollow voices rang in my head.

What have I done? What have I done?

Holmes you can’t help him if you drive yourself back to a sickbed

If he dies, I will go to the grave with him

I cried my pain and my concerns and my worries out for all to hear.

I found myself confronted with each of Holmes’ pieces as they all stabbed me with knives over and over.

The nightmare did not seem to end.

I feared for Holmes and was afraid of Holmes at the same time.

Then one morning I awoke and felt like a worn out rag but I felt alive.

I looked to my left to see Holmes sleeping on a pallet.

Yama was sitting on a chair watching me.

“Doctor Watson?” Yama asked.

I looked at him and nodded as my throat felt drier than any desert that I have walked through.

He poured a cup of water from a pitcher on the table next to him. He helped me sit up a bit before putting the cup to my lips. I was shaking from the effort of just sitting up. I tried to drink but only managed really to wet my lips.

Holmes stirred and came to when he saw Yama hovering over me.

“Is he?” he asked with such dread in his voice.

Yama stepped back so he could see me.

Holmes looked as if he saw a ghost, “Watson?”

I nodded and wished I hadn’t.

He leapt up from the mat he was on and went to take me in his arms only to be stopped by Yama.

“Holmes!” he shouted dragging him back.

Holmes stopped struggling.

“We have talked about this,” said Yama admonishing Holmes, “You must keep your distance until Delek says otherwise.”

Holmes nodded and looked rather defeated. He sat down on the chair that Yama had vacated.

“What?” I croaked but my voice failed me any further.

Delek came sweeping in accompanied by a couple of monks carrying baskets. The room was getting rather crowded and I was feeling dizzy.

“What happened?” Delek finished my sentence for me. I tried to nod but it made the dizzy feeling worse.

“I suggest you don’t move your head to much right now. Blink once for yes and two for no. Do you understand?”

I did a slow blink and was grateful that activity didn’t hurt.

“Good. Glad to see you back with us Doctor Watson. It was touch and go there for a while.”

I glanced towards Holmes who looked absolutely miserable. He was all hunched up in the chair with his arms wrapped about his legs. His head was on his knees and he looked at me with such concern and sadness.

Delek saw where I was looking.

“He killed you Doctor Watson,” he said while pulling back the covers and exposing the bandages that crisscrossed my chest, “He stabbed you to death and then tried garroting you for good measure. He slammed your head into the floor with so much force you were lucky he didn’t dash your brains out….And then he came to his senses, realized what had happened, and got help immediately.”

Yama helped him to remove them without disturbing my poor body too much. There was a very angry stab wound on my chest around the area of the heart. I could smell the end of the infection as Delek cleaned each carefully.

I had been taken to Delek with the knife still buried in my chest and my lungs filling with blood. They drained the blood from my lungs by the means of an incision and a piece of tubing. How Delek got the dagger out of my chest without the lung collapsing or my heart to be pierced or half a dozen other things that could have led to my immediate demise are mysteries to this day. Apparently at some point my heart did stop but he got it going again, several times. He did save my life that day and I will always be grateful to him for that.

My luck with infection, however, continued to be wretched and I had become fevered in both body and mind.

I lost three weeks and Holmes had been beside himself the whole time afraid that Moriarty had won and taken those things that were most precious to him, Holmes’ brilliant mind and me.

Moriarty had through dastardly means turned Holmes into a living weapon to kill his brother Mycroft and other members of the Marketplace. However there was hope that since Delek now knew the purpose of Moriarty’s torture of Holmes, he could help him return to himself.

I reached a hand out towards Holmes. Yama and Delek looked at each other and then at Holmes and nodded.

He crossed to the bed and knelt down so his face was at my level. He took my offered hand and with tears in his eyes, he let out a string of apologies for what had happened.

I blinked ‘no’ several time before I could get him to stop.

I said in a whisper, “Not you. It was never you. You would not allow this to happen to me.”

He looked at me stunned and then collapsed in a heap next to the bed sobbing.

Yama helped him to the pallet he had been lying on and held him while Holmes came apart.

That was the turning point for both of us. I started to heal from my injuries. And Holmes healed from his both body and soul.

Summer followed spring and we found ourselves again talking about going home.

Holmes had serious trepidation of leaving the monastery until Delek was sure he was not a danger to me or anyone else.

It was with a heavy heart on both our parts that it was decided that I would return to England and Holmes would follow me after he had finished his course of healing.

The travel back was unremarkable other than my reacquainting myself with English culture. I found the clothing binding after having worn monk’s robes for so long. The food was practically tasteless and I was having a hard time eating meat again. Slowly I returned back to being an English Doctor. By the time our ship pulled back into I had returned to my persona of Doctor John Watson, chronicler of the adventures of Sherlock Holmes.

I was met at the dock by one of Mycroft’s slaves who took my luggage to Baker Street while I was taken to the Diogenes Club and Mycroft. I was lead to the stranger’s lounge one of the few places were conversation could be held within the club.

I found Mycroft at his desk with a young boy in his lap reading to Mycroft from the newspaper in front of him. The boy was a spitting image of Sherlock as a boy. The other lad was seating in front of the fireplace drawing on the hearth with a burnt piece of wood. He reminded me both of my continence and Mary’s. He drew with a steady hand only to look up at me and then go back to his drawing.

Mycroft hit a button under the desk next to him and a young woman appeared through a door I had not seen due to it being cleverly disguised as a bookcase.

She bowed to Mycroft and said in a quiet voice, “James, come with me so we can clean your hands. William, let’s go see what we have for tea today.”

I could see both boys getting ready to object but Mycroft cut it off, “Boys, go with Nan. I will see you both at dinner and if you are good, Doctor Watson will be joining us.”

William hopped off Mycroft’s lap and came over to me. He offered me his hand quite formally and said, “It is a pleasure to finally meet you Doctor Watson. Our father has read us your adventures with our Uncle Sherlock.”

I took the hand and shook it with the gravitas to which he had offered it to me. James followed his brother out with their governess.

“So you decided to declare both your children?” I asked as a servant handed me a scotch neat and I sat in the chair that Mycroft indicated I should sit in.

“It was…simpler to do so. We couldn’t separate them even as infants without serious consequences to their health and well being. Which is why I chose the woman to be my wife so carefully.”

I remembered meeting her briefly at some point during my preparing to find my Master. I hadn’t even thought of her looks and mine but he was right that he picked a person that would make James look like his mother.

I looked at the hearth to find a rather good drawing of a human hand.

“James is very artistic. He is the quieter of the two,” said Mycroft with a touch of pride in his voice, “William takes after his father in so many ways.”

“I liked to draw as a boy. It didn’t go any further than that.”

“So Doctor Watson, I see you but I do not see my brother. Care to explain?”

I launched into the whole tale of what had happened since I last communicated with him. He asked to see the scar from the dagger. I stood up took off my jacket, waistcoat, and shirt. I explained what Moriarty had done to Holmes glossing over some of the more horrific points and why Moriarty had decided to turn Holmes into a weapon.

I could see that Mycroft knew that I was not giving him the whole tale.

My glass was refilled several times and we talked well into the evening.

“Doctor Watson, would you care to join me at dinner with my wife and sons?”

I could tell this was an order, not a request so I nodded and followed him out to the carriage that awaited us which swiftly took us to his house.

Dinner was a pleasant affair. The boys quizzed me on my travels and the like. I answered as honestly as I could.

James surprised me with a question that I did not expect to hear from him, “You were Uncle Sherlock’s body slave?”

I looked to Mycroft for guidance and found none. Of course the boys knew that their ‘father’ owned slaves. Neither lad was dim.

I nodded.

“Then why isn’t my Uncle Sherlock here?” he continued.

I could not answer.

Both boys stared at me for what seemed an eternity and then looked at each other and nodded. William said something to James I did not understand but James hopped off his chair ran to me and gave me a full body hug. I was caught by surprise but found myself returning it and for a moment I got to hold my son again. William joined his brother in hugging me.

James mumbled into my waistcoat, “We are calling you Uncle John.”

I felt William nodded in agreement.

The two boys let go then hugged Mycroft and their mother before leaving with their governess.

William said to his father before he left, “Can we have Uncle John here for dinner again soon?”

Mycroft said, “If Uncle John is amenable to it, then yes.”

They looked to me and I nodded not trusting my ability to speak.

“Good!” said James and they left.

Mycroft said, “You made an impression. Thank you Doctor Watson for coming to our home.”

I stood and bowed to him, “Your servant Sir.”

He laughed, “Not quite. But if what you tell me is true, your Master should be home soon.”

I sincerely wished it so.

I left and returned to Baker Street and had tea with Mrs. Hudson catching her up on all that had happened and with her I was totally honest.

Chapter Text

My time back became routine. I went to work. I went home.

The only light in my life was my son who Mycroft encouraged me to be with. James was a very serious little boy who reminded me so much of my younger self it was uncanny.

It was heading towards winter when I found myself in my surgery staring at the figure in front of me with my mind not believing what I was seeing.

The old man I had bumped or rather had bumped me as I was leaving court. Mycroft had secured me a position as a physician for the local police force both helping the injured and the deceased. It had been a rather violent end of one Ronald Adair that found me in court testifying to the cause of his demise, which had been a rather unusual bullet of indeterminate caliber.

Later he had come to my surgery trying to get me to buy some books from him. I turned around to see where he was pointing only to turn around and see my Master standing in front of me.

I dropped to my knees as I couldn’t feel my legs.

He laughed and helped me up then hugged me so tightly I thought my ribs might crack. He finally let go and stepped back to look at me.

“You aren’t eating,” he said with concern in his voice, “You’ve lost more weight.”

I shrugged, “British food doesn’t really agree with me these days.”

“Well we will have to do something about that,” he sat down on the overstuffed chair in the room that I had next to the fireplace. He pointed to a spot beside the chair.

I went to it and knelt down next to the chair and gazed up at the face of the man I would die for on command.

“I told your assistant to take any calls this evening since I need you with me,” he said.

“I am yours,” I said.

He chuckled, “Oh how long I have waited to hear that again. This evening we shall finally finished this awful business. The last of Moriarty’s gang is being rounded up as we speak but there is one that we need to deal with before I can come home. Do you have your pistol here?”

I shook my head, “No, Mycroft has it.”

I saw the look of concern and anger in his eyes so I quickly said, “I gave it to him for safe keeping. I saw no reason to have it around since you were not here for me to need it.”

“Avoiding temptation,” he said, “Good move. I shall go retrieve it from him. You need to keep your routine. Go to the Turkish bath house that is near Baker Street and await for me there.”

He put back on his disguise and I wondered how I hadn’t seen him underneath it.

“Holmes?” I said as he went to leave.

“Yes Watson?” he replied.

“How…how are you feeling?” I asked not knowing if I wanted to hear the answer or not.

He smiled and said, “Very much myself Watson. Have no care on that subject.”

He left the room and I wondered for a moment if I had seen a ghost or made him up in my mind. The scarf he left behind that smelled of sandalwood and Holmes told me it was no dream.

I finished up my paperwork and kept my habits as normal as possible per Holmes’ orders.

I went the baths to find Holmes waiting for me in the hot room. He looked lean but no longer emaciated. His scars were evident but I did not note any new ones.

I noticed that he was cataloguing the scars on my frame as well. I felt embarrassed. I hadn’t been eating. The scar on my chest where he had stabbed me was an ugly reminder of what had happened to us.

He stood up and came over to me. He took my hand and led me to the bench.

I sat and he joined me. He traced his fingers over the scar looking very thoughtful.

“Ah Watson, the pain I have caused you,” he said.

“It’s nothing,” I said.

He grabbed my chin and forced me to meet his eye, “It is not nothing John. It will always be a symbol of my failure to keep you safe.”

“But Master I am here. I am alive. I am safe.” I said.

“No, you are not safe right now,” he said with grave concern in his voice.

“How so?”

“All questions will be answered after tonight. But now we need to get dressed.”

We proceeded through the rooms to a private changing room. We got dressed and Holmes handed me my gun with a very serious look on his face.

“Watson, if I give you the order to shoot, I need you to do so without hesitation. Do you understand?”

I nodded grateful for an order.

“Good. I will hold you to that,” he said putting his collar up to obscure his face.

I handed him the scarf that he left behind which he wrapped around.

He grabbed his walking cane and then changed his posture into that of a very old and frail man.

I escorted him out of the bathhouse. It looked like I was assisting a patient but he was leading me the direction he wanted to go.

We traveled through back streets and avenues of London until we reached a door that lead into a row house. He picked the lock and we entered the house, which was in serious disrepair.

We snuck upstairs and looked out the front windows. I found myself staring across the street at our rooms in Baker Street and there was an image of Sherlock behind the drawn shades.

He watched the window across the street for a while and then had us draw back and observe the room.

We waited and waited. And just about the point that I think he was giving up for the night, we heard the sound of uneven footsteps up the stairs. Holmes motioned me stay back. We were pressed up against the wall when I saw a figure lurch into the room.

He had on formal dress and a large opera cape covering his body. He removed his top hat and I almost gasped but held it in.

Before me I saw Moran alive. But not Moran the way I last saw him. This looked like a crooked version of him. His body was twisted as if the bones had been broken and not reset correctly. He took his cane and, with some items pulled from his pockets, he assembled a gun that he took aim and shot at the figure of Holmes across the way.

Holmes leapt and attacked Moran. They fell into a heap. Moran was growling and spitting as they fought. He seemed more animal than man. Finally Holmes had him in a hold Moran could not break.

Moran then saw me and moaned, “You! Why could you not just die? You were supposes to die. Not my Masters. You and this bloody thing.”

He tried to head butt Holmes but failed.

“Shoot Watson,” came the command, “Kill him!”

“But Holmes?” I said.

“What did you say to me?”

I raised my gun and tried to find a way of filling my orders without harming my master.

I lined up and fired a shot that went straight through his head spattering blood and brain all over Holmes. Moran looked shocked as it happened. I watched the light fade from his eyes and I felt a great feeling of relief.

“Now we must leave this place before the police arrive. It would not do well for them to find us with the body.”

Holmes grabbed my hand and we worked our way back to the rear door of Baker Street. We came into our rooms to find Mrs. Hudson waiting for us. She helped me strip the bloody clothing from Holmes. After cleaning him up, I realized that I had nicked his side with my shot. It was bleeding sluggishly. I cleaned it up and bandaged it. He dressed with alacrity and was seated before the knock on the front door signaling that we had a visitor.

Mrs. Hudson gathered up his soiled clothing and the basin with the fouled towels and bloody water and heading down the backstairs. The maid let Lestrade in with two other officers behind him.

“Doctor Watson, there has been…” his voice trailed off as he saw Holmes sitting in his old seat. “Mr. Holmes?”

“Yes Lestrade?”

“You…you are alive!” he said with great incredulity.

Holmes smiled a nodded, “I am indeed.”

“Oh well this is just wonderful! Wait until I tell the missus. I knew that could not be true no matter what was said.”

“To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

“I was coming to get Doctor Watson to examine a body that was found apparently shot to death in the house across the street from yours.”

Lestrade looked at the wax dummy that had been Moran’s target, “But apparently you know something of the matter since it is obvious that there has been an attempt on your person.”

The heavy footsteps on the stairs announced Mycroft’s arrival. The flat was getting rather crowded with people.

“Inspector Lestrade, I am glad to find you here but shouldn’t you be dealing with the body across the street. It is apparent to anyone that has eyes that he was responsible for the attack on Sherlock Holmes this evening and there was a fight that lead to his demise. No honor among assassins apparently.” He flit his hand dismissively.

Lestrade took one look at Mycroft and scarpered with his officers.

Mycroft waited until he heard the front door close.

“Is this the last of that Sherlock?”

Holmes nodded, “He was the last piece left to be taken care of. I have fulfilled my duties to you and to the Marketplace. Now leave us in peace for a bit.”

Mycroft gave a stiff bow to Holmes and one to me, “We are grateful to both of you for your service.”

He left us in the quiet of the room.

Mrs. Hudson had the maid bring us supper. Holmes made me sit on the floor next to him while he fed me more than I had eaten a quite a while. He ate as well.

After we had finished our repast, he motioned for me to take my chair.

I sat down and he poured us both a scotch. He handed me a glass and then sat in his chair across from mine.

“I am sure you have plenty of questions for me. So I will give a summery for you and if you have any more after that you may ask.”

I nodded.

“Moran was the last of the gang that had not either died or been imprisoned. I did not know that he was still alive until word got to me through your friend the chief of a strange tale of the broken English man found in the mountains next to his dead wife who was not totally a woman. He sent someone to check the story out only to discover that Moran was still alive.”

“At this point I knew you were in much danger as Moran blamed us for his Masters demise. Delek and Yama felt that I had recovered for the most part and they had taught me techniques to help me if I have another incident. They sent me on my way with their blessings.”

“I tracked Moran but always seemed to be a couple of steps behind until we came face to face in Amsterdam. I then led him on a merry chase to London where I knew we would have our final conflict. Which we have now had and you brought to a satisfying conclusion.”

“How long have you been in town Holmes?” I asked.

“Only two weeks. Long enough to realize what he was up to and divert his attention from you to me. I did take Mycroft into my confidence and was staying with him.”

“So you have met your son?”

He looked almost wistful, “Yes I have and yours as well.”

He waved his hand dismissively, “Ah well, it is for the best. The boys are thriving under Mycroft. He is much more father material than I. Besides I have someone to take care of right here in front of me.”

I shivered at that thought and what it might lead to.

He finished his scotch and held out his hand. I stood up and helped him up.

We went to his bedroom and I removed his clothing and then my own. I took him to bed and reminded him why he is my Master. He fell asleep in my arms and I rapidly followed him.

We had won.