The Master approached his prize, now standing restrained in the centre of one of his private rooms, arms shackled and suspended upwards by chains hanging from the ceiling. The Doctor wore now only his shirt and trousers, bare feet pressed against the cold, black tiled floor. A couple of fresh bruises were beginning to appear on his cheek and ribs, obviously slapped around a few times before he found himself in his current circumstances.
The Master just grinned wildly, running up madly toward the Doctor, excited by this treasure before him. He let out a fanatical laugh, darting forward and giving the Doctor a swift kick to the back of his knees, causing him to buckle and sag against his chains.
“Whatever it is you want, I won’t help you,” the Doctor growled, pulling himself back up.
“Oh, that’s not a very nice way to address an old friend,” the Master said, feigning hurt.
“We’re not friends. You tried to kill me. And my friends. And the human race,” the Doctor reminded him.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right, we were never really friends. Many other things but not friends,” the Master pondered. “Still. No need to be so hostile. You don’t even know what I want.”
“Enslave the planet. The universe. Or maybe you just want to torture me for eternity,” the Doctor rattled off. “Who knows.”
“Well, it depends what you mean by torture doesn’t it,” the Master reasoned. “Your idea of torture could be very different from mine.”
“Oh, I’m sure it is.”
“I guess the easiest way is just to show you what I want. Then you can decide for yourself,” the Master said.
He grabbed hold of the Doctor’s face roughly with both hands, before pressing his lips hard against the Doctor’s in a brutal kiss. His mouth engulfed the Doctor’s, one set of lips devouring the other, ending in teeth biting down on the other Time Lord’s lower lip. The Doctor cried out, half in pain and half in disgust, yanking his head away, eyes wild.
The Master laughed wickedly, licking at his lips to savour the warm, metallic taste of blood on them. He stepped back, watching the Doctor’s reaction for a moment.
“Surprise you for once did I, Doctor?” he asked. “That’s no small feat; you usually always work out what I’m up to.”
The Doctor stared at him incredulously, shaking his head, a mix of repulsion and confusion on his face.
“You’re mad,” he muttered.
The Master grinned, folding his arms across his chest.
“Ahh…yep, already knew that one,” he declared.
“No, but really. You’ve lost it this time. Power and galactic dominance is one thing. But this,” he remarked. “This is something different altogether. Resurrection must have fried some of that brain of yours.”
The Master tipped his head to one side, pouting mournfully, and holding a hand over his hearts.
“Oh, you hurt my feelings, Doctor,” he mocked. “One would think you don’t even like me.”
“I don’t like you,” the Doctor snapped.
The Master shrugged, laughing at him again. He approached the Doctor and took his jaw roughly in one hand, pulling his face up to his own.
“You don’t need to like someone to fuck them,” he growled. “This only has to do with physical need. Oh, and also that power and dominance stuff you mentioned before.”
The Doctor’s eyes widened, his body tensing at the Master’s words. He then tightened his jaw and gave the Master a steely stare.
“So you’ve degenerated to raping people now, hmm? Not very superior of you,” he sneered.
The Master didn’t flinch, just continued to grin manically at him. He then leaned in, pressing his mouth close to the Doctor’s ear.
“I don’t force. I command,” he murmured. “I can be very…persuasive.”
The Doctor shuddered at the warm breath in his ear; the sensation sending shivers through him partly due to physical response and partly due to the heavy tone of those words. The Doctor swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut and then opening them again.
“I won’t be party to your perverted games,” he informed him. “You’ll just have to rape me.”
The Master let him go and spun around, striding across the room and pointing his finger in the air.
“See, I thought you might say that, so I brought some insurance,” he announced.
He smacked a button on the nearby wall, and a door slid open, revealing a shackled Martha. He yanked her out of the doorway and shoved her, making her shuffle across the room toward the Doctor.
“Ta da! Maybe Miss Jones would like to join the party then?” the Master asked him mockingly.
The Doctor scowled at him, raging in his own restraints. His eyes then met Martha’s, changing to a look of concern. She gave him a small smile and then glared at the Master.
“Whatever it is, don’t do it, Doctor. I’ll be fine,” she informed him. “I have a high pain threshold, so he can torture me all he likes.”
The Master stepped back, looking her up and down, raising an eyebrow.
“Ooh, I like her, she’s feisty. I can see why you brought her along. Gorgeous, smart and an attitude,” he said, his voice full of charm. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my Lucy. Beautiful and a loyal companion. But a bit thick sometimes.”
Martha stared at him in disgust, shaking her head, and the Doctor continued to glare at him.
“Maybe I should start with Miss Martha then. You can watch me feel these lovely chocolate curves and hot lips,” the Master murmured, eyes roving up and down her body. “I can tell you what it feels like to be inside her head and her body while she screams for your help.”
The Doctor watched as fear crept into Martha’s eyes, and she swallowed nervously, her demeanour turning to one of anxiety. The Doctor lunged forward, trying in vain to loosen his restraints or get to the Master.
“It’s okay, Doctor. Do what you have to do,” Martha said quietly, her voice shaking now.
His eyes softened at her distress, and he pulled himself up straight, leaning forward fearlessly to stare into the Master’s eyes.
“No. I’ll do it. Just don’t touch her,” he conceded. “Leave Martha out of this.”
The Master sighed a little in disappointment, but grabbed hold of Martha’s cuffs to drag her to a nearby railing. He chained her to it, and then turned back to the Doctor.
“Alright, I won’t defile your little friend,” he grinned. “But leaving her out of it is just no fun. I think she’d like to watch.”
The Master sauntered up to the restrained Doctor and grasped him by the back of the neck, before roughly kissing him again. The Doctor didn’t respond, but heard Martha choke in horror from behind the Master.
“You’re sick!” she exclaimed, but the Master ignored her.
He pulled away, sighing, staring into the Doctor’s eyes.
“Now, now. Remember what I said. You have to join in,” he scolded. “Do as I say, or it’s your little companion instead. And trust me, I won’t be as nice to her.”
The Doctor’s gaze met Martha’s briefly, but he looked away in shame. He nodded almost imperceptibly, and then looked up into the Master’s burning eyes. The Master smiled in triumph, his hands creeping up into the Doctor’s hair, holding the back of his head.
He pressed him into a kiss again, this time the Doctor submitting and responding weakly to the hungry lips devouring his own. His body jumped a little as the Master forced his mouth open, an eager tongue invading and wrapping around his own. He shuddered, his skin tingling from the awkward sensation of being kissed so brutally yet so fervently.
When the Master finally broke the kiss, the Doctor sagged into his cuffs, breathing hard, his head bowed. He swallowed hard, not wanting to see how Martha may be looking at him. The Master’s hands dropped to the Doctor’s shoulders, running over the cloth of his shirt and then under the collar to his skin. His fingers ran over the smooth surface and then dipped down to yank open the shirt fiercely, sending broken buttons flying to the ground.
“Leave him alone, you sick fuck!” Martha shouted, banging and yanking at her chains.
The Master turned his head at this, smiling, but continued his desecration of the Doctor, nipping and kissing at the Doctor’s throat while he watched Martha. He made sure she could see the way his tongue ran slowly up the Doctor’s neck to his earlobe, before biting down on it. The Doctor cried out and Martha winced.
“Oh, but he loves it. He pretends he doesn’t, but I know the truth,” the Master explained, breathing heavily into the Doctor’s ear. “He’s desperate for the touch of another Time Lord. I know I am.”
Martha shook her head, staring at him in loathing.
“Even if that were true, he would never want you,” she spat. “You’re a disgusting murderer.”
A low chuckle came from the Master’s throat before he kissed the Doctor fiercely again. His hands roved the Doctor’s body as he did so, grabbing at his arse and then pressing against the front of the brown, pinstripe trousers. The Doctor grunted into the Master’s mouth at this, his hips bucking unconsciously at the touch, and the Master pulled away grinning.
“You see, he wants it. He wants me to control him. Dominate him. He always did,” the Master told her. “I assume he never shared that with you?”
Martha’s mouth dropped open slightly and she furrowed her brow in confusion. She glanced over at the Doctor but he refused to look at her.
“Didn’t care to mention that we used to be lovers? No, that doesn’t surprise me. He never did like to tell his companions anything,” the Master said. “And especially not something as sordid as that.”
The Master reached under the Doctor’s chin with his fingers, tilting his head up gently so he would look him in the eyes. The brown pools were a mix of confusion, anger and shame, and the Master could tell the Doctor was struggling with his own conscience.
“That was a long time ago,” the Doctor said quietly, refusing to look over at Martha.
He could feel her eyes burning into him, and the horror on her face. He could only imagine what she thought of him.
“S-So what?!” she stammered. “He fucked you before you were crazy. Everyone makes mistakes.”
The Master laughed loudly at this, grabbing hold of the Doctor’s thin frame again, tugging at the buttons on his trousers. The Doctor swallowed hard, aware what all this was building up to, and terrified that Martha would see what was going to be done to him.
“Not before I was crazy! Just before he realised he couldn’t cure me,” the Master informed her. “It’s just how I am. And deep down, he likes it that way.”
He pulled open the Doctor’s fly and sealed his lips against his throat again, before slipping a hand into the Doctor’s trousers. The Doctor tried to stifle a groan at the warm touch, but the electrical sensations suffused his body in seconds. The Master’s mouth sucked on his skin in a way that hurt him, but made him crave more. As the teeth broke into his flesh, the Doctor sighed, causing the Master to murmur in pleasure.
“He wants me to hurt him. Take him. Fuck him,” the Master growled, addressing both Martha and the Doctor now. “Tell her you want it.”
The Doctor shook his head, biting his lip as the Master continued his agonising exploration of the warm flesh in his trousers. He could feel himself hard against the Master’s hands, and he was sure that Martha could probably tell by now too that he was turned on by this. But he refused to admit it.
The Master’s other hand slapped hard against his face, and his gentle touch now rough, making the Doctor yelp in pain. The Master made him meet his gaze and he narrowed his eyes.
“Tell her,” he repeated, his tone threatening.
The Doctor licked his suddenly dry lips, dropping his head so he didn’t have to look at the Master.
“I want it,” he whispered.
“Sorry, I don’t think she heard you,” the Master taunted. “Louder!”
“I want it!” the Doctor spat.
He stared up at the Master, both angry and submissive. The Master grinned again and returned to his teasing touching of the Doctor, and was rewarded with a soft whimper of pleasure. His hand was gentle and slow, trailing up and down the Doctor’s length and occasionally grasping more firmly to pull on him. His lips engulfed the Doctor’s again and his kiss was returned this time with hungry desperation.
Their tongues clashed in frantic battle, probing and angry, with the Master’s firm hand on the back of the Doctor’s head guiding their efforts. The Doctor’s eyelids fluttered as the Master’s teeth sank into his lip again, this time letting the hurt fill him and the warm blood flow between their mouths. The Master let go of his lip, and began licking at his wound, his tongue tasting the blood and the cut, drawing out more pain for the Doctor to feel.
The Doctor could hear his own heavy breathing in his ears, accompanied by that of the Master, whose hand had now quickened in pace and increased in pressure. He could also feel how hard the Master was pressed against his own thigh, and in the back of his mind he knew it wouldn’t be long before the Master took things further.
Sensing his fear and excitement, the Master stopped, breaking his mouth away and removing his hand from his trousers. The Doctor glanced over at Martha, who was silent and frozen in horror against the railing. He willed himself not to look away, but flinched as the Master murmured in his ear.
“Time for the main event, I think,” the Master announced, pulling off his own shirt and unbuttoning his trousers.
The Doctor clenched his jaw and attempted to give Martha his strongest stare.
“Close your eyes,” he instructed her.
She just stared back at him, mouth open, unable to do or say anything. The Doctor pushed himself upward, frowning at her.
“Martha!” he shouted, his voice hoarse. “Close your eyes!!”
Martha jumped and squeezed her eyes shut as they heard the Master’s trousers drop to the floor. He wandered around the back of the Doctor, yanking down the other man’s trousers, and positioning his head over the Doctor’s shoulder.
“Shame,” he remarked. “Still. She can hear you scream for me I suppose.”
The Doctor heard the Master reach for something behind, and then jumped slightly as he felt a cool, wet substance hit his lower back and slid all the way down between his legs. He then saw a soft plastic tube clatter to the floor, the cap still open, allowing liquid to ooze slowly out onto the ground.
“For your comfort and mine,” the Master whispered. “I’m not that cruel…yet.”
The Doctor took in a sharp breath as he felt the Master’s hands slide around his waist and dip down between his legs. He closed his eyes, his hearts pounding, as the Master’s firm hand took hold of him, squeezing and pulling ever so slowly back and forth. His other hand wandered back around his waist and down his backside, and the Doctor exhaled loudly as he felt the Master position himself behind.
The Master pressed his cool cheek against the Doctor’s hot one, his mouth hanging open, breathing hard in the Doctor’s ear. He grunted as he rubbed his erection against the Doctor’s opening, not quite pushing in just yet.
“We’re the only ones, Doctor. There’s no-one else left. In time. In space,” the Master breathed. “You need this. You need me. All of me.”
With that, he thrust himself violently inside the Doctor, both of them crying out at the pulsating energy that filled them in this act. The Master’s other hand flew up to the Doctor’s throat, and he pinned him that way as he drove himself in and out. He worked the Doctor at the front, quick and unyielding, striving to bring him closer and closer to the peak.
The Doctor felt overloaded by all the sensations filling his body. Such anger and hatred for this burned inside him, but outwardly his physical form craved it, loved it, longed for it. The hand clutching at his throat was painful but exhilarating, and the other grasped and stroked him in a way that made him want this to go on for eternity.
The Master knew exactly how he liked it, including the act of making him submissive and never being in charge. No-one else dare speak to him, touch him or hurt him the way the Master did, and it filled a void in the Doctor he never knew was there. An aching to not be the man who knew everything, who had to save the day, who was adored and worshipped like a god. The Master was now his god.
The Doctor could feel the fire coiling up in his belly, ready to blaze through him and bring him over that precipice. The fingers on his throat gripped hard, digging in to bruise his skin, as the Master continued to plunge into him. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take; he felt like any second he would plunge into deep pleasure or insanity.
“Say my name,” the Master murmured, lips hot against his ear.
“Master…” the Doctor whimpered.
The Master pushed and pulled him harder, faster. His breaths were warm and rapid in the Doctor’s ear.
“Louder, again,” the Master ordered.
The Doctor bit his lip, feeling his stomach tighten and body shudder as he drew closer and closer. The rhythm was rapid and violent, and he felt himself falling into it as the Master took him.
“Master,” he choked.
He heard the Master grunt in his ear at the sound of his name, and the Doctor knew he loved the way that word came off his lips. He winced as the Master let go of his throat and instead grabbed a handful of hair at the back of the Doctor’s head, yanking it hard.
“Doctor…” he groaned, twisting the Doctor’s head around to graze his lips.
The words flew out easily now, his body taut with desire, and the Doctor felt himself now beginning to surge with each stroke. His hips bucked against the Master’s hand, and his lips reached out hungrily to meet the Master’s mouth.
“Yes, Master…” he groaned. “Master!”
With one last push, he tipped over the edge, body convulsing as he climaxed, and the Doctor cried out as hot waves of pleasure rocketed through him. The hand still pulled at his hair and he rode the swell of pain along with it. It was then he felt the Master’s body tighten and shudder, the Doctor’s enjoyment enough to set off his own.
The Master stifled a groan and bit down fiercely on the soft skin of the Doctor’s neck as he orgasmed, releasing himself inside the Doctor hard. His body shook and he continued his brutal assault driving himself inside the Doctor as pleasure pulsed through him, drawing out all he could.
As the Master’s motions slowed, he grew soft, and leant against the Doctor’s limp body for a moment, breathing hard. He then swiftly pulled out, causing the Doctor to sigh, and let go of him completely. Eyes heavy, the Master stepped around to the front of the Doctor, grabbing his sagging chin and pulling it upwards.
He mashed his lips against the Doctor’s again, forcing his mouth open and plunging his tongue in a brutal kiss. The Doctor responded, submissive and willing, and when they broke the kiss, his eyes they were filled with both contentment and shame. The Master grinned at him, gratified by the result.
“I’d forgotten what a good fuck you are, Doctor,” he mused. “Lucy certainly never makes me cum that hard. Guess you and me are meant for each other.”
He laughed dryly, slapping the Doctor hard across the cheek, causing his head to flick and sag to one side. The Doctor didn’t dare look up; even if Martha’s eyes were still closed, she had heard everything. The way he had given in, called for the Master, enjoyed being violated that way.
The Master gathered his clothes and dressed himself again. He made no attempt to put the Doctor’s clothes back on, and instead just left him hanging in his shackles, shirt ripped open and trousers around his ankles. The Master smiled, stepping back to admire the sight.
“Oh, you look so pretty for your little companion,” he mocked, eyes dancing. “I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about.”
And with that, the Master turned and marched away toward the door, Martha still chained to the railing.
“Wait! Come back!!” the Doctor shouted hoarsely. “You can’t…”
But the Master never turned back, just laughed and slammed the door as he left, leaving Martha and the Doctor alone in the silent, cold room.