Title: Have Mercy
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/The Master
Fandom: Doctor Who
Prompt: 38, Virgin
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.
***"Do you remember the first time I took you, Doctor?" the Master asked as he leaned over the man in his bed. "You were a virgin then. I was the first of all the lovers you've had. I wonder if any of the others were as good as I am?"
The Doctor didn't answer; he turned his face to the side and tried to concentrate his attention on the wall rather than on the Master's face. He'd seen enough of that face in the last few days; he didn't want to look at it any more than he had to.
"Oh, come now, Doctor." The other man's tone was a combination of amusement and annoyance. "I'm not that horrible to look at, now am I? You're certainly much more attractive now than you've ever been since I've known you. And I've known you all your life."
He still refused to answer, until the Master gripped his chin and forced him to look up, their eyes meeting. He could tell that his tormentor was growing more and more annoyed with each passing moment, and that almost brought him a bit of satisfaction.
"You'd best obey me, Doctor, and answer me when I ask a question," the Master ground out, his eyes darkening with barely suppressed anger. "You're not exactly in a position to be defiant. I can do anything I please with you, and I might not choose to make it pleasant."
"You wouldn't do that anyway, even if I was in the mood to be obedient," the Doctor snapped back at him, knowing that his words would likely result in him being punished, but not caring. "Do your worst. I can't stop you."
The Master didn't answer him; instead, he leaned down and pressed his mouth against the Time Lord's, the kiss hungry and demanding, as though he was trying to draw the Doctor's very breath from his body and leave him gasping.
He didn't want to respond to that kiss; he wanted to turn his face away, to raise a hand to his lips and wipe away the traces of the Master's taste on his tongue. But that was impossible to do with his hands bound to the bedposts.
How many times had he been in this position before, naked and bound on a bed with the Master leaning over him, gloating at his helplessness? Too many to remember, really. But he could remember the first time, as though it had been yesterday.
The Master was right -- he'd been the first. But he wouldn't have ever called the two of them lovers, not in his wildest dreams. No encounter that he'd ever had with the Master, from the first one to what was happening now, had anything to do with love.
It had always come down to rape, to the Master forcing himself on the Doctor. Even the first time, when he'd cried, begged, and pleaded, and the Master had finally gagged him to keep him from screaming when he was taken.
There was no need to do that now; he wasn't a frightened boy trying to protect his innocence. The Master had no need to hide what he was doing; he could have invited a crowd of people to watch what was going to take place, with no worry about reprisals.
But the Master hadn't wanted to hear him scream then; all he'd wanted was the satisfaction of taking his virginity, of knowing that he'd ripped something away from the Doctor that should have been given freely in a much different manner.
At least he hadn't had the satisfaction of being the first man to take him in all of his bodies, the Doctor thought, particularly this one. This body had belonged to someone else first, and the Master hadn't yet forgiven the fact that he hadn't had first choice.
It might be a vengeful way for him to think, being glad that the Master hadn't been the first to have his way with a body that he was so obviously attracted to, the Doctor thought to himself. But at least he could hold on to that anger to cover the fear he was feeling.
Yes, he was afraid. Any time the Master forced him, it was a frightening experience. Perhaps that was because he couldn't keep himself from responding, even though he knew that it was only a physical response and that he wasn't asking for this.
He didn't want this. He never did. And yet .... somehow, that insinuating voice in his ear, the words urging him to accept that this was his fate, that he belonged to the Master and always would, was hard to shut out of his mind.
Even though his eyes were closed, he could picture the scene in his mind's eye as he felt the bed shift under him. The Master was leaning over him, either reaching for lube -- or for something to shove inside him before his captor took his own pleasure.
His muscles tightened at the thought; whatever happened, it was going to hurt. He had to steel himself for the pain, try to keep from crying out for as long as he could. But eventually, he would have to. Unless the Master followed the usual pattern of a gag to muffle his cries.
It didn't really matter, did it? he told himself, squeezing his eyes shut more tightly. Whatever the Master chose to do, it couldn't last forever. He'd be untied and left here, to pull his clothes back on and stumble back to the Tardis -- until the next time the Master wanted him.
It had been the same way the first time. All he could remember was the pain that had ripped through him; he'd thought that his body was being torn apart, that he would never be able to regenerate, that his Time Lord essence was seeping out along with his blood.
But that hadn't happened. The Master had merely taken what he'd wanted, loosened the Doctor's bonds enough for him to free himself, and left him lying on that long-ago bed from a world that didn't exist anyone, naked and humiliated.
Why should this rape be different from any of the others? It would be just like the one that had ripped his virginity away; it was never any different, no matter what bodies they were in. And he knew that it would continue to be the same long after this one.
The Master's hands slid under his bottom, lifting him slightly off the bed; the Doctor gasped, his fists clenching and pulling against the rough ropes that bound him as the Master entered him, his muscles tightening around the intrusion.
At least he had the satisfaction of knowing that he wasn't a virgin in this body, and that the Master wasn't taking anything from him this time. At least, not anything that he hadn't already taken a few times before.
The Doctor gritted his teeth, pulling breath into his lungs and trying not to make a sound. Maybe if he could hold onto the thought that this was only a body, that the Master wasn't taking something integral from him, he could get through this.
And maybe he wouldn't feel the need to scream for the Master to have mercy before it was over.