Title: No Escape
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/The Master
Fandom: Doctor Who
Prompt: 23, Oral
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or the Master. Please do not sue.
***The Master stood in the middle of the small room that could more accurately be termed a cell, his head thrown back, his eyes closed, a smirk of satisfaction on his face. Yes, this was what he'd been wanting for quite a while now.
His hands were buried in the soft hair of the man kneeling in front of him; his fingers tightened their hold every few seconds, almost pulling but not quite. He didn't want to pull that warm, wet mouth away from what it was doing.
"Very good, Doctor," he murmured, looking down. "I'll have you very well-trained before too much longer. Though you're already quite good at this."
The Doctor paused, his head no longer bobbing up and down on the Master's cock. The other man frowned, his fingers twining through the Doctor's tawny hair and jerking hard, eliciting a muffled cry from the man on his knees in front of him.
"Did I say you could stop, Doctor?" the Master inquired, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "You don't stop what you're doing until I give you express permission, do you understand me?" He didn't expect the Doctor to answer; he merely wanted to give the order.
The movements of that soft, warm mouth continued, and the Master closed his eyes in pleasure. Oh, the Doctor was indeed good at this, more so in this body than in any other. But then, he was much more attractive now than he'd ever been ....
This was how it had been meant to be, he thought, looking down at the man kneeling at his feet. The Doctor, bound, subservient and obedient -- and himself, the conqueror.
There was something indelibly satisfying about having the upper hand over one's enemy, he thought, his hands tightening in the Doctor's hair again. Just knowing that he was the victor in this particular battle was beyond satisfying -- it was exhilarating.
And to the victor go the spoils, he told himself with a smile. The Doctor at his feet, his greatest enemy vanquished -- at least for the moment. He had no doubt that the Doctor would somehow try to turn the tables on him yet again.
But this time, he wouldn't succeed, the Master vowed. He meant to keep things as they were -- and if the Doctor tried to escape, he might very well force a regeneration so that the other Time Lord would be at his weakest as the change took place.
No, no, that would be foolish, he chided himself. What if the Doctor ended up with a much less attractive body than he had now? That wouldn't do at all.
He needed to keep the Doctor in this body -- and keep him as he was now, kneeling, at his mercy. This was the greatest satisfaction he'd had in a long time -- not only physically, but in every other way, knowing that the Doctor had no way out.
Now that he had the Doctor, he didn't intend to let the other man go. It had happened too often in the past, leaving him gnashing his teeth in frustration, and pursuing the Doctor all over the galaxy. Now, he wasn't going to relinquish the upper hand.
He'd made the mistake of not keeping a more careful watch on the Doctor before. This time, the Master intended to keep him right where he was -- at his feet, with no chance of escape.
Ah, he was close -- the Doctor certainly had a very talented mouth. With a sigh, the Master allowed his body to tighten, then release, spilling down the Doctor's throat, feeling the exquisite contraction of those muscles as the other man was forced to swallow.
Tugging at the Doctor's hair again, he forced his captive to look up at him, studying the Doctor's face. His eyes took in the defeated expression on the other man's face, his flushed cheeks, his swollen, reddened lips; all of it made him smile in contentment.
"We're only just beginning, Doctor," he whispered, his eyes meeting the Doctor's dark gaze. "You aren't going to escape me this time. You're here for the duration of your life in this body -- so you might as well resign yourself to that fate."
He smiled as the Doctor's dark eyes widened, then darted around the small cell as though he could find some way out and take it.
There was no way out for him, and the Master knew it. This time, he'd made sure that the wily Time Lord wouldn't escape his clutches -- and now that he had what he desired, he had no intention of letting go. Not until he'd sated himself fully -- in every way.
"Forget about escaping, Doctor," he said softly, letting his eyes roam over the slender curves of the other man's body. "You belong to me now. And I intend to take full advantage of that fact -- and take revenge on you for denying me what I've wanted in the past."
So saying, he jerked at the Doctor's hair again, pulling the other man to his feet. The Doctor had to suppress a cry, his teeth sinking into his lower lip. The Master smirked; that was the kind of reaction he liked to see.
And there would be many more pained reactions before the night was over. He'd make sure of that.