Fic: The Brilliance of a Dying Sun
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Title: The Brilliance of a Dying Sun
Author: ladyhamilton
Pairing: Simm!Master/Lucy, brief hints of Master/Doctor
Rating: R
Notes: A vignette set on the evening of the end of the world.
The moment they were alone together in the spacious bedroom suite, the Master spun Lucy around, grinning madly. She had put on the red dress he had picked out for her, and let her hair down, and she looked gorgeous.
“We’ve taken over the world!” He exclaimed, and she laughed the cruel, heartless laugh at the pain of her fellow humans that was one of the things he loved about her. Love in a purely carnal sense, of course. The Master did not love, had never loved-so the drums told him, retroactively ransacking his memories and pounding away any thoughts of boyhood laughter and shared mischief and affection.
“Just like you promised, Harry,” Lucy purred, all trust and devotion.
“Say my name. My real name.”
She flickered her eyes to his face then dropped them submissively, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze. Her blood-red lips parted, and she whispered,
“Master.”
Of course it didn’t sound as good as coming from a kneeling, begging Doctor, but he could have that as much as he wanted now. The Master laughed in exhilaration and tumbled Lucy down on the huge bed. She sprawled there beautifully, blonde hair and red dress spread out on the silken sheets, panting and smirking in anticipation. Every detail was perfect, just as he had planned it.
He bent down and kissed her, feeling her melt and groan as he ravished her mouth. She reached up to unbutton his shirt, but he pulled back abruptly, grasping her slender wrists and pinning them above her head. She was obedient, quiescent as always. There was no longer the joy of seduction and conquest, but there was another kind of pleasure in the power and control he had over her-the knowledge that she would do anything for him. Yes, that was good.
He could meet her eyes across the room at a crowded political function and smirk. And she would continue to make small talk, cool and collected, and he would know that her knees felt weak and her black lace panties were getting damp from how much she wanted him. A tilt of his head, and both would murmur polite excuses and meet each other in the hallway. She would follow him wordlessly into an empty room and he would pin against a wall, rumpling her designer dress and impeccable hairdo, kissing and groping her shamelessly and running his hands up her legs, taking her with his fingers as she bit her lips to stifle her moans. Then he would wait until she finished shaking, wiping his fingers on a silk handkerchief, smooth and primp her into respectability, and follow her back into the room so he could watch her have to make excuses and chat as if nothing had happened. And however much he used and toyed with her, she just begged him for more.
Lucy must have seen the lust in his eyes at the memory, for she arched herself sinuously, red satin sliding over her curves and the hardness of her nipples. He scorched her body with his gaze, seeing not just her but the whole world, the universe, the Doctor, loving him too much until it was too late and he could do whatever he fucking wanted with them. He laughed again, intoxicated with power, and kissed her until she gasped for breath.
“You know what I’m going to do?” He asked.
“What?” Her eyes wide, showing a hint of fear because he really could do anything now.
“I’m going to take you on the Valiant’s main deck,” he said, an idea that had come to him as he was designing it. “I’m going to push that dress up your thighs and take you in one of those big executive chairs...” he frowned as if considering. “...or maybe in the middle of the conference table. Can you imagine me bending over you in an impeccable suit and tie, using my mouth and hands to make you moan and beg while we watch the continents burn below us?”
She looked shocked, but she would do it for him, even if his lackeys or the Toclaphane or the Doctor were there to see.
“Yes,” she said after a moment. He raised an expectant eyebrow. “Yes, Master.”
“But not now.” He released her wrists and ran his hands down her body. “You look stunning just where you are,” he said softly, with a gentle smile, and he knew that she was falling for him all over again. She smiled back at him, and he let her draw him into another passionate kiss, enjoyed the feeling of her legs wrapping around him and her hips pushing against his. It felt good, but it wasn’t all he wanted to do to celebrate on the night of his supreme triumph. He pulled away from her again, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and jumping up.
“Harry?” She questioned, still dizzy with pleasure.
“Yes, that’s what we need!” He grinned madly at her, before darting into the next room.
Lucy smiled indulgently. She questioned his sanity sometimes, but that manic side that he had only just been able to unleash on the world was all part of his magnetic attraction. He was mad and irreverent and so far beyond everyone else that she couldn’t help feeling a little bit left behind sometimes. But she was proud to be his chosen one, proud beyond measure that of all the human race, he thought her worthy to stand at his side. He had shown her the stars, burning into nothingness at the end of time. Everything she had thought mighty was worthless compared with him, and he alone gave her purpose now-he was her Lord and Master, and she lived to serve him.
The Master danced back into the bedroom, a sleek and impossibly expensive digital camera in his hand, and flopped onto his back beside her. He pressed a button, the lens opened smoothly, and he held it above their heads.
“Smile, Lucy! You’re on top of the world!”
Her leg draped over the Master’s, his arm around her shoulders, their faces side by side in triumph, and the flash of the camera as it recorded their moment of glory was the momentary brilliance of a dying sun.
Title: The Brilliance of a Dying Sun
Author: ladyhamilton
Pairing: Simm!Master/Lucy, brief hints of Master/Doctor
Rating: R
Notes: A vignette set on the evening of the end of the world.
The moment they were alone together in the spacious bedroom suite, the Master spun Lucy around, grinning madly. She had put on the red dress he had picked out for her, and let her hair down, and she looked gorgeous.
“We’ve taken over the world!” He exclaimed, and she laughed the cruel, heartless laugh at the pain of her fellow humans that was one of the things he loved about her. Love in a purely carnal sense, of course. The Master did not love, had never loved-so the drums told him, retroactively ransacking his memories and pounding away any thoughts of boyhood laughter and shared mischief and affection.
“Just like you promised, Harry,” Lucy purred, all trust and devotion.
“Say my name. My real name.”
She flickered her eyes to his face then dropped them submissively, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze. Her blood-red lips parted, and she whispered,
“Master.”
Of course it didn’t sound as good as coming from a kneeling, begging Doctor, but he could have that as much as he wanted now. The Master laughed in exhilaration and tumbled Lucy down on the huge bed. She sprawled there beautifully, blonde hair and red dress spread out on the silken sheets, panting and smirking in anticipation. Every detail was perfect, just as he had planned it.
He bent down and kissed her, feeling her melt and groan as he ravished her mouth. She reached up to unbutton his shirt, but he pulled back abruptly, grasping her slender wrists and pinning them above her head. She was obedient, quiescent as always. There was no longer the joy of seduction and conquest, but there was another kind of pleasure in the power and control he had over her-the knowledge that she would do anything for him. Yes, that was good.
He could meet her eyes across the room at a crowded political function and smirk. And she would continue to make small talk, cool and collected, and he would know that her knees felt weak and her black lace panties were getting damp from how much she wanted him. A tilt of his head, and both would murmur polite excuses and meet each other in the hallway. She would follow him wordlessly into an empty room and he would pin against a wall, rumpling her designer dress and impeccable hairdo, kissing and groping her shamelessly and running his hands up her legs, taking her with his fingers as she bit her lips to stifle her moans. Then he would wait until she finished shaking, wiping his fingers on a silk handkerchief, smooth and primp her into respectability, and follow her back into the room so he could watch her have to make excuses and chat as if nothing had happened. And however much he used and toyed with her, she just begged him for more.
Lucy must have seen the lust in his eyes at the memory, for she arched herself sinuously, red satin sliding over her curves and the hardness of her nipples. He scorched her body with his gaze, seeing not just her but the whole world, the universe, the Doctor, loving him too much until it was too late and he could do whatever he fucking wanted with them. He laughed again, intoxicated with power, and kissed her until she gasped for breath.
“You know what I’m going to do?” He asked.
“What?” Her eyes wide, showing a hint of fear because he really could do anything now.
“I’m going to take you on the Valiant’s main deck,” he said, an idea that had come to him as he was designing it. “I’m going to push that dress up your thighs and take you in one of those big executive chairs...” he frowned as if considering. “...or maybe in the middle of the conference table. Can you imagine me bending over you in an impeccable suit and tie, using my mouth and hands to make you moan and beg while we watch the continents burn below us?”
She looked shocked, but she would do it for him, even if his lackeys or the Toclaphane or the Doctor were there to see.
“Yes,” she said after a moment. He raised an expectant eyebrow. “Yes, Master.”
“But not now.” He released her wrists and ran his hands down her body. “You look stunning just where you are,” he said softly, with a gentle smile, and he knew that she was falling for him all over again. She smiled back at him, and he let her draw him into another passionate kiss, enjoyed the feeling of her legs wrapping around him and her hips pushing against his. It felt good, but it wasn’t all he wanted to do to celebrate on the night of his supreme triumph. He pulled away from her again, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and jumping up.
“Harry?” She questioned, still dizzy with pleasure.
“Yes, that’s what we need!” He grinned madly at her, before darting into the next room.
Lucy smiled indulgently. She questioned his sanity sometimes, but that manic side that he had only just been able to unleash on the world was all part of his magnetic attraction. He was mad and irreverent and so far beyond everyone else that she couldn’t help feeling a little bit left behind sometimes. But she was proud to be his chosen one, proud beyond measure that of all the human race, he thought her worthy to stand at his side. He had shown her the stars, burning into nothingness at the end of time. Everything she had thought mighty was worthless compared with him, and he alone gave her purpose now-he was her Lord and Master, and she lived to serve him.
The Master danced back into the bedroom, a sleek and impossibly expensive digital camera in his hand, and flopped onto his back beside her. He pressed a button, the lens opened smoothly, and he held it above their heads.
“Smile, Lucy! You’re on top of the world!”
Her leg draped over the Master’s, his arm around her shoulders, their faces side by side in triumph, and the flash of the camera as it recorded their moment of glory was the momentary brilliance of a dying sun.