Title: All of My Toys
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/The Master
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Table: 50_darkfics
Prompt: 19, Slave
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.


"Stand up, slave."

The Master's voice oozed satisfaction, and the Doctor almost ground his teeth. This was beyond humiliating, but he had no choice but to deal with it. The fate of Earth was in his hands, and what the Master wanted, he got.

He rose to his feet from the kneeling position he'd been in, wondering why the Master wanted him to stand. He'd expected to be kept kneeling, perhaps violated from behind while he was on his knees, but it seemed that the Master had other ideas.

"The master/slave relationship is usually one of mutual love and trust, isn't it?" the Master murmured, walking around the Doctor as his eyes moved up and down the Time Lord's naked body. "But in this instance, I don't think that's possible."

"I suppose that means you want to incorporate some alternative lifestyle elements into this," the Doctor replied, his eyes meeting the other man's gaze. "I shouldn't be surprised."

The Master shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. "No, that's not it," he said, his voice louder now. "I really couldn't care less if you trust me or not, Doctor. In fact, it would be better for you if you didn't. You've always known that's a mistake."

"Indeed I have," the Doctor agreed, resisting the impulse to turn in a slow circle as the Master walked around him. He forced himself to stand still, knowing that the other man was taking in every inch of his body, apparently enjoying what he was seeing.

"You really are magnificent in this body, Doctor," the Master told him, his tone approving. "You couldn't have regenerated into a more perfect one if you'd done it specifically to please me. Just as a good slave should."

"I won't always be your slave," the Doctor muttered through gritted teeth, knowing that he shouldn't have said the words the moment they were out of his mouth. The Master stepped closer to him, one hand flashing out to twine his fingers through the Doctor's hair.

The Time Lord tried to remain silent when his head was jerked back, but a soft whimper escaped, making the Master's lips curve in a smile.

"You'll be my slave for as long as I say you will, Doctor -- even if that's for all of eternity," he mocked, his fingers tightening in the Doctor's tawny hair. "If you don't, Earth -- and all of its inhabitants -- die. I don't think you're ready to face that kind of guilt."

More than ever, he felt like grinding his teeth. The Master was merely playing on the guilt he felt over the destruction of their home -- and he had the Doctor trapped between the proverbial rock and a hard place, a position that he couldn't easily escape from.

"Of course you won't," the Master told him, that voice becoming rougher as he moved closer to the Time Lord. "I may get tired of using your body long before then. I might even decide to force you to regenerate -- just to see what you look like next."

The Doctor felt his hearts jump in his chest, their dual beats speeding up. That brought another smile to the Master's face; he pressed his free hand against the Doctor's chest, as though he was savoring the other man's agitation.

"That's a frightening thought, isn't it, Doctor? I know you're attached to this body. I don't blame you -- it's certainly the most attractive one you've had. At the moment, I can't think of any reason for me to rip it away from you. I do desire it, after all."

The Doctor gasped as the Master twisted one small, taut nipple, rolling the sensitive flesh between his thumb and forefinger until the rosy peak was throbbing.

"This body belongs to me, Doctor," the Master snarled at him, their gazes meeting and locking. "I can do anything with you that I please -- unless you want to see your beloved Earth dissolved into nothing but pieces of debris floating in space."

Of course he didn't want that. And the Master knew it. He had no choice but to obey this madman, to bend to his bidding and let himself be subjugated for as long as it took him to figure out a way to take the fate of the Earth out of the equation.

Then, and only then, would he be able to formulate a plan of escape.

The Master's hand moved down, those long, cool fingers curling around his cock. The Master didn't stroke him; he simply stood there, holding the Doctor's cock in his hand as though he was somehow weighing the other man -- or weighing his options.

The Doctor gasped at the touch, his hips involuntarily jerking forward. How long had it been since he'd been touched like this? His traitorous body was reacting to that though, his cock hardening in the Master's hand, his senses whirling, his hearts pounding.

"Ah, you're not as indifferent to me as you'd like to pretend you are, Doctor," the Master breathed, his gaze never leaving the Doctor's face. "Deep down, you want me, too."

The Time Lord squelched the denial that came instantly to his lips; it wouldn't do any good, anyway. He knew all too well that the Master could sometimes only choose to hear what he wanted to, and that once he was convinced of something, he wouldn't believe any words to the contrary.

He began to move his hand slowly up and down the Doctor's hardening shaft, smiling when a soft moan escaped from the Time Lord's lips. He was still watching the Doctor's face intently, as though he was hoping to see a certain expression there.

"That feels good, doesn't it, Doctor?" he asked, his voice soft and almost coaxing. "I can make it feel better, you know. I can make this good for you -- or you can choose to do it the hard way. It's your choice, really. It all depends on you."

He didn't want to give in to the pleasure that was flooding his senses; he knew that all too easily, the Master could change tactics and cause him greater physical pain than he'd ever felt. But at the moment, that knowledge was swept away behind a wave of sensation.

"That's right, Doctor," the Master breathed into his ear. "Let yourself go. Let yourself enjoy what I'm doing to your body. Of all of my toys, you've always been the most responsive. Maybe that's why I enjoy you so much."

The Doctor struggled to regain his stony countenance, his silence, but it was impossible. There was too much sensation, too much pleasure.

That pleasure would quickly turn to pain once the Master decided he'd had enough of this particular game. He knew that. But his body couldn't resist that insidious slide down a darker path; he was giving in, whether he wanted to or not.

The Doctor's hand clenched in the cuffs behind his back; for the moment, he was helpless, nothing but a slave to the Master's will. But he wouldn't be in this position for longer than he had to be. He would find a way out, no matter what the cost to himself.

His breath was coming faster, his hips moving with the rhythm of the Master's hand on his cock. He had no idea just what this madman was planning, but whatever it was, he could only hope that he'd be able to find the strength to thwart it.

And that another world and countless lives wouldn't be destroyed in the process.