"The Time That Never Was: Day 232"
Who: The Doctor & The Master
When:
During the Year That Never Was, Pre-Merge
His jaw had healed nicely but their attempt to break out had been impossibly mangled and now, the Doctor found himself hardly able to hold up his head. He liked the bird cage much better than he liked the tent though, so there was that. He
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Reaching out, he grasped the Doctor and began jerking him off quite roughly. There was no love here but when had there ever been?
Stretching out, the Master chuckled and lazily continued. He had no idea how long it had been since someone did this but hopefully it would shut the Doctor up.
Wishful thinking.
As if the Doctor had a choice, either in how he looked -- though some Time Lords could control it with a sort of discipline that the Doctor could never have -- or his ability not to say a word. Impossible. Literally, honestly, impossible. Arching up into the Master's hand, the Doctor grit his teeth. After everything today, why would he want this!? Why was he reacting like this?
The Master wanted a victory and the Doctor was inadvertently giving it to him but rolling his hips upwards and making soft, brilliant mewling sounds.
"Ah---Ah please...Master..." And begging? What more could the other Time Lord want?
The Master had to laugh, a sort of mean spirited laugh because it was so easy to make the Doctor writhe and wriggle under him. His name was all the spurring he needed, he moved his hand harder and faster.
Then, when he felt it coming to an end, he stopped.
What? He always was a tease.
Letting go, the Master leaned closer and shoved the Doctor on his back. It was his turn to play! "Assume the position."
The Doctor looked confused at first and then really rather annoyed. He'd he so close! So close! He knew that he Master was cruel but really, this took the cake!
Hm. Cake. The Doctor wished it hadn't been ruined by all that blood... He'd been about to suggest that they get some cake in a bit when the Master was back to man handling him in the least fun of ways.
"What? What? What?!"
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"Shut up, lie back and just think of Gallifrey-- actually, no, Gallifrey was awful. Think of bananas and icecream and kitten."
And with that, he rather carelessly shoved his way inside the Doctor with no real preparation. Bad idea. For the both of them. Because it was actually quite painful at first but it did get better-- but that was sort of how it always worked with them.
Groaning, he gave both himself and the Doctor a minute to adjust before he slowly started to move his hips once more.
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So again, the Master hadn't won. The Doctor let him. He poised a foot against the bed, resilient Time Lord's body quite able to take the extra stress as he fiddled around with the angle.
It didn't bother to come until the Master started pretending he was a bit of meat again, but there! There! A little burst of heat and the Doctor whimpered madly for more.
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And no matter how the Doctors logic worked, the Masters logic worked differently.
The Master didn't stop till the Doctor started whimpering and his full display of power worked. Then and only then did the Master start to reach his peak. It didn't take much really, just that display of power.
And that was pretty much that, with a shudder and an awkward almost loving kiss, he came.
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Perhaps it would calm him down. Make him see reason. Make something from this bloody mess. The Valiant could be reined in. Jack could be released--
The Doctor smiled up at the Master breathing hard, lips bright cherry red. He felt rather satisfied actually.
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"Doctor, you can leave. Get out."
Burying his head in the pillow, he lazily closed one eye and kept the other open, watching at the side to make sure the Doctor needed left him. Because no, he had not calmed and no, they weren't going to discuss anything or reason together.
The Master had what he wanted. End of.
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"Your sonic screwdriver, Doctor."
Voice? Oh, Lucy. The Doctor half smiled at her, rolling just one shoulder before limping passed. "I think I'll--"
Okay, there was a gun! He handed it over with a sigh. "He doesn't really care, you know," Lucy said and the Doctor blinked at her.
He didn't quite understand jealousy of this sort. He and the Master were the last. Why would Lucy mind?
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The Master didn't emerge the next day, he let his crew handle clean up and restrain the prisoners.
When the Master finally did come back out, it was the Friday of the end of the week and he was admittedly in the mood to play once more. The Doctor had been left cuffed and ignored in the Valiant control room and when the Master did turn up, he finally had food.
Unbuttered toast anyone?
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He lifted his head slowly, eyes moving from the Master's feet to his knees and hips and chest and finally his face, but only after he'd taken in the rest of him.
Lucy spit in his face that morning. The guards ignored him. His arms hurt and he really could use a bit of water. He doubted he'd get it.
"Ah, breakfast. No thank you."
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"Are you bored yet?"
The Master was. He always was. He had about a week of being happy before he got rather fed up and had to find something to amuse himself with. Usually it had something to do with the Doctor in someways.
"Amuse me."
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The Doctor hadn't eaten anything proper in weeks so yes, he indulged. Even if that made him out to be a bit of a bad guy with no moral standings. Well, what was he meant to do otherwise? Let it go to waste? He could convert the sugar into more energy and--
The Doctor looked up over the rim of the cup as he slurped it down and then freed to mouth to say: "Sorry? Amuse you? You'd you like me to do that, then? Wiggle my fingers a bit?"
Evidently, he was the only one feeling anything at all about what they'd done in the Master's bed and all of the things that kiss had told him.
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Deaging the Doctor was always fun. Down and down and down he went till his clothes pooled around him and his handcuffs slipped from his tiny wrist.
"I'll be back to play with him when I think of something. Until then, lock him away."
The Master tossed the key to a nearby guard before trekking off to track some an amusing little game to play. Catch the Martha? See how long it takes to mess with Lucys mind before she breaks? Or perhaps he could find his tennis ball?
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He didn't quite understand a lot of what was going on, just that he was sure he hadn't tasted the kiss wrongly. Why did Earth romances turn to rubbish when he needed them to work correctly? He was much too old to cry, but he could feel the dried up tear ducts sting just the same.
Today had been a worse day than yesterday. Whatever they'd done hadn't mattered.
And Lucy was still insisting on bothering him! She kicked the table, sending his cage rolling underneath. He hurt too much to do more than move the straw from his face.
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“Fetch! Good boy!”
The Master always did love a game of fetch, the Doctor could be such an amusing little puppy. Adorable doggie indeed.
“And later? Hmm, we’ll find a fun way to amuse one another, don’t you think?”
The Doctor scowled, not moving. "I'm not going to entertain you that way ever again, he growled, though he wasn't still smarting or uncomfortable that way any longer. Small favors really. He hopped up onto the table and sat on the edge, kicking his legs.
"That's what wives are for and you've one really very suited to your particular style of doing things." The spitting, the knocking him off the table--
Oh Lucy, Lucy, Lucy. The Doctor didn't much care for her in all honesty.
"Go. Get. The. Ball," the Master grounded out, hoping the Doctor would indeed do as he asked. After all, he wasn't in the mood to chase after the Doctor and punish him today, he just wanted compliance. And he would use the Doctor however he wanted, the Doctor wasn't a person anymore. He was just a thing to amuse him.
Crossing his arms, he scowled down at the Doctor.
"Don't sulk like a child, you knew what it was. I wanted to fuck you, I did. And if you can't accept that then too bad, stop finding meaning where there is one," As if it was even a loving gesture!
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