Title: Down on Your Knees
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/The Master
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Table: prompt_palooza
Prompt: 25, Crawl
Warnings: non-con
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 Doctor didn't look up from where he knelt on the floor, even when he felt the tug of the leather collar around his neck. He didn't want to see the smirk on the Master's face; it was bad enough that he had to listen to the other man's voice.

"This is how I love seeing you, Doctor," the Master purred, his tone dripping with satisfaction. "On your knees. Subservient to me. The way you should always be. And seeing you naked on your knees is just an extra little bonus."

The Doctor didn't answer the obvious taunt; his first impulse on hearing the words was to attempt to cover his nudity with his hands, but he knew that wouldn't do much good. He continued to kneel there in silence, keeping his eyes averted from the other man.

"Ignoring me isn't going to help your situation, Doctor." The Master approached the Time Lord, circling around him with measured footsteps. "You can feign indifference, but I know you're trembling inside, waiting to see what I intend to do with you."

The Doctor's muscles tightened with apprehension as the Master moved behind him, but he didn't dare to look around; he didn't want to give his enemy the satisfaction of seeing his curiosity.

"Ah, yes, this will do very well." The Master's hand was on his shoulder, pushing him forward; the Time Lord wanted to resist, but he knew that he was in no position to do so. He would have to go along with whatever the Master wanted him to do -- at least for the moment.

"Down on your hands and knees, Doctor," the Master said, his voice rougher than it had been only a moment ago. The Time Lord had no choice but to comply, a shiver coursing down his spine. What exactly was the Master planning to do?

He found out within seconds, his eyes widening and an involuntary gasp coming from his throat when he felt two fingers pressing between his cheeks from behind. The Master's fingers probed deeply inside him, then twisted savagely, making the Doctor's breath hiss between his teeth.

The other man's lubed fingers scissored, stretching him, preparing him for .... what? The Doctor could guess; but he hadn't heard the unmistakable sound of the Master unzipping his trousers. That in itself was enough to make him nervous.

Abruptly, the other man's fingers pulled out of him; the Doctor tensed again, waiting to hear the telltale sound of the zipper, to feel the other man's body on his.

A short, sharp cry was forced from his throat when he felt something large and blunt pressing against his opening, something that definitely was not the Master's cock. Whatever it was, it was cold and hard -- and far too large to enter him comfortably.

"Just relax and let it slide in, Doctor," the Master whispered, that voice close to his ear now. The other man was bending over him, his voice low and sibilant. "Oh, but it's a bit too large for you to do that, isn't it? Then you'll just have to deal with the pain."

He wasn't going to let so much as a whimper escape his lips, the Doctor vowed to himself, determined not to let the Master see how much pain he was in. But with the next thrust of the object inside him, he couldn't keep back another gasp of pain.

"It hurts, doesn't it, Doctor?" the Master laughed, twisting his wrist as he pushed his chosen instrument of torture forward again. "The plug is almost all the way inside -- I suppose that I might be persuaded to give you a few moments to get used to it."

The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut, trying to take a deep breath; it felt as though his lungs were constricted, each forward movement snatching the breath from his body.

Finally, the pushing stopped; the Master moved to stand in front of him, looking down at the Time Lord with a satisfied smile on his face. The Doctor didn't glance up; he didn't need to see that expression to know that it was there.

If he didn't move, then it wouldn't be so bad, he told himself, his teeth sinking into his lower lip to keep himself from whimpering. The sensation of being filled intensified when he so much as took a breath; moving would make it unbearable.

But he was sure that the Master wasn't going to give him that choice. The Master was going to torture him in every fiendish way his twisted mind could devise, he had no doubt of that. He could only hope that whatever the other Time Lord planned wouldn't break him.

He hadn't broken yet, he reminded himself as the Master knelt, fumbling with the leather collar around the Doctor's neck. He had to force himself not to flinch away as the other man snapped a leash onto the collar, standing up and regarding his captive with his head cocked to the side.

"Yes, that's the effect I wanted," he said, wrapping part of the leash around his wrist and tugging at it. "Follow me, Doctor, there's a good boy."

When the Doctor began to rise to his feet, the Master held up a hand, shaking his head. "Not so fast, my pretty. I didn't say you could stand up, now did I? No. You're going to crawl behind me, Doctor. Down on your hands and knees, like any subservient slave should."

The Doctor made no move forward; after a few moments, the Master tugged on the leash, his tone impatient when he spoke. "Come along, Doctor. I have plans for you, but they can't be carried out in this room. Start moving."

He had no choice. If he didn't move, the Master would undoubtedly keep pulling at the leash -- and he wouldn't care what damage he might do. The thought of being strangled by a leash wasn't necessarily a very appealing one.

The Doctor couldn't keep a hissing breath from escaping his throat as he moved forward; the plug felt as though it was pushing deeper inside him with every movement, rubbing against his prostate, giving him a mingled sensation of pain and an insidious pleasure.

It took a few moments for him to realize that the soft moan filling the air was his own; he couldn't have kept back that sound, no matter how hard he tried.

The Master was smirking again, as if he knew exactly what the Doctor was experiencing. He stood by the door until the Doctor had nearly reached him, then uncoiled part of the leash from around his hand, moving down the long hallway and obviously expecting his captive to follow him.

The Doctor followed his tormentor as best he could, crawling a few feet behind on his hands and knees. He was trying his best to ignore the combination of pleasure and pain that was spreading throughout his body, though each movement intensified the sensations.

He wanted nothing more than to stop, or to beg the man walking ahead of him to find some other way to torment him. But that wasn't going to do any good; admitting that he couldn't bear this would only make the Master prolong the torture.

The Master stopped in his tracks, turning to look down at his prisoner, the smirk on his face growing more pronounced. "You realise that if you come, I'm going to punish you, Doctor," he said, his voice holding an unmistakable note of triumph. "So you may want to try not to do that."

The Doctor clenched his teeth, not looking. At least that command gave him something to concentrate on -- though he wasn't at all sure that he'd be able to obey it, he thought as the leash was tugged again, making him wince and clamp his lips shut on a moan as he followed the Master down the hall.