Title: Walk Into the Fire
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: R
Table: 6, substituted for Table 11
Prompt: 46, Sacrifice -- substituted for 10, Picnic
Author's Note: Continuation of Alone Again.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own Ianto Jones or the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

***

"Let me get this straight." The Master leaned back in the chair he was seated in, raising an eyebrow and regarding the Doctor with an expression that was somewhere between disbelief and laughter. "You sought me out to offer yourself to me. You want to give me your body. You've spent lifetimes trying to avoid me -- and now you're asking for this?"

"Yes." The Doctor's small fists clenched at his sides, a muscle in his jaw jumping. His teeth clenched along with his fists, his nerves drawn taut, his body tense and trembling. It had taken all of his willpower to come here, to search the Master out and tell him point-blank that he was going to surrender himself to the other Time Lord. If the Master turned him down -- no. It wasn't going to happen.

The Master wouldn't turn down a chance like this. This was what he'd always wanted -- to have the Doctor in his clutches, helpless to defend himself or to escape, letting the Master have full reign over his body. The idea of his surrender must have been sweetly satisfying, though the Master must know that he wasn't completely willing.

"Just what brought this on, Doctor?" The Master was looking at him with his head tilted to one side, a contemplative look on his face, brows still raised in question. "After all the time you've spent running away from me, or trying to get away when I held you captive, this is a rather surprising turnaround in your attitude."

"Never mind that." The Doctor shook his head, trying to make his muscles relax and unclench. He was always nervous and tense in his dealings with this man, and he was very aware that he was giving the Master the upper hand. He had no idea if he would escape from this encounter -- or emerge from it with his faculties intact, or even if he would live through it.

"Do you know what I think?" The Master got to his feet, approaching the Doctor and reaching out to grasp the Time Lord's chin. "I think your pretty little fuck toy got tired of you. I think you've been unceremoniously dumped, Doctor, and now -- now you're looking for whatever you can get because you're so hungry for physical contact."

The Doctor ground his teeth, biting back the angry words of denial that rose to his lips. He wasn't going to give the Master the satisfaction of letting his words get to him -- and he wasn't going to admit just how close to the truth those words came. That was his own private hell, his own shame, his own regret. He didn't need to share it.

"Well, that might not be quite true," the Master amended, releasing the Doctor's chin and circling around the Time Lord, letting his eyes roam over the other man's body. "Given the fact that you most definitely aren't one for being on top in bed, I would say that you're the fuck toy, Doctor. A toy that's been used and thrown away."

He slid an arm around the Doctor's waist, pulling the Time Lord back against him. The Doctor had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to keep from letting out a soft moan when the Master's crotch pressed against his ass, the other man's arousal evident through the fabric of his trousers. He shouldn't want this. He shouldn't want to be touched, not in the way that the Master would manhandle him.

"How does it feel, Doctor?" the Master whispered, his breath hot against the Doctor's ear. "How does it feel to know that you're no longer wanted? How does it feel to know that you aren't good enough? How does it feel to know that you have to give your precious body to someone you loathe, simply because you can't get it from the man you love?"

He wanted to scream, to deny the words coming from the Master's lips. He wanted to turn around and batter his fists against the other man's chest, to scream out his defiance of everything that he was hearing. It wasn't like that. Ianto hadn't gotten tired of him. He'd gotten tired of the situation, and he'd pushed too hard.

"He's really rather a fool, you know." The Master's hand slid down over the curves of the Doctor's ass, slipping between his legs to fondle his balls through his pants, making the Time Lord squirm against him. "This is the most gorgeous body you've ever regenerated into. I still remember how it felt to fuck your arse, Doctor. He's a prat to give that up."

"Perhaps I was the one who gave him up," the Doctor managed to get out through gritted teeth, cursing his body's tendency to respond quickly when he was touched. The Master's hand was slipping into the back of his pants, fingers sliding down the cleft of his ass; he knew it was only a matter of a few moments before he'd lose all coherent thought once those searching fingers were inside him.

"Now, you know I don't believe that, Doctor," the Master chided him, his free hand twining through the Doctor's hair and pulling the Time Lord's head back. "Not with the bond I felt between the two of you. No, it wasn't your decision to leave. But it was your decision to come to me. Do you think I can end the pain by giving you more pain of a different kind?"

As he spoke, the Master rammed two fingers inside the Doctor; the Time Lord gave a startled scream, his hips flexing and his hands clenching into fists again. The hand in his hair held him immobile, those long fingers probing deeply inside him for his prostate, making him writhe with every thrust. Degrading him with each moment that he let the Master do this.

But this was what he'd wanted. And as much as he hated to admit it to himself, what the Master had said was true. He wanted to bury the pain he was feeling by subjecting himself to more pain, of a physical sort rather than emotional. Which one would hurt less, in the long run? He didn't know -- and at this point, he didn't much care.

"You came to me, Doctor," the Master taunted him, the laughter back in his voice. "What a joke. After all this time, you're running after me and begging for what you've always denied you've needed. I'll make you beg for it, Doctor. I'll strip every bit of your pride from you and make you plead for what you hate. Oh, I'm so going to enjoy this."

A third finger joined the first two, making the Doctor draw in his breath with a hiss. If the Master kept this up, he was going to be a begging, quivering wreck within a few moments; he was already on the verge of gasping out a plea for the Master to take him. This was only the beginning, he knew that. It was always like this with the Master. First, pleasure; then, the pain that was always inevitable.

That was what he wanted, what he needed. He needed to feel the kind of pain that this man would give him. He needed to force himself to forget what he'd left behind, what he'd never go back to. He needed to push it all to the back of his mind, make it a memory that he never looked at because it was far too painful to touch.

"Your arse is mine," the Master whispered into his ear, his voice low and menacing. "You belong to me, Doctor. I'll make you tell me that, over and over again. I'll make you believe it, and I'll make sure that everyone knows it. You won't escape me this time, not now that you've been fool enough to throw yourself into the fire. You wanted me, Doctor. Oh, the irony of it."

"Don't flatter yourself," the Doctor panted, his slender hips flexing with each thrust of those fingers into his ass. "I didn't do this because I wanted you, or because I needed you. I did it because ...." He swallowed, not wanting to admit the truth, but knowing that he had to. "I did it because I need to hurt."

"Oh, you'll hurt, Doctor," the Master growled, abruptly releasing the Time Lord and sliding his fingers out of the Doctor's body. "I'll make sure of that. If you want to hurt, you've come to the right place." He stepped away from the Doctor, crossing his arms over his chest. "Take your clothes off, Doctor. I don't think you'll be having any need of them, not for the duration of your little visit with me."

Hating every second of what he was doing, the Doctor complied, slowly pulling off his jacket, loosening his tie, starting to unbutton his shirt. The Master watched, his eyes moving over the smooth skin of the Doctor's back as his shirt was removed, smiling as the Gallifreyan began to unzip his trousers.

"I'm going to enjoy using you, Doctor." His voice had a ring of triumph in it, his smile growing as the Doctor's trousers fell to the floor and the other man stepped out of them to stand there naked, his fists clenched at his sides again. "And this time, you've come to me. It's a surrender that I didn't expect, but a very pleasant surprise nonetheless."

The Doctor had to resist the urge to shudder and cross his arms in front of his body; he kept himself still through sheer force of will. This was a sacrifice he had to make. It was the only way he could ease the pain he was feeling -- to make sure his mind could focus on a different kind of pain. Eventually, one would cancel out the other.

"Hands behind your back, Doctor." The Master's voice was clipped, businesslike. "I don't want you having a change of heart and attempting to escape. I think I'll make sure of that right away, before you get it into your head that you can somehow win this little game. After all, I can't be too careful with such a prize."

The Doctor closed his eyes, obeying the Master's order. He felt something cold and metallic slip around one wrist, then the other, heard the click as the cuffs were fastened. He swallowed hard when he felt the restriction of a leather collar slide around his throat, finally letting himself shudder when the Master's hand slid over the curve of his ass to rest there. He hated this man's touch, hated feeling those eyes on his body.

The thick metal bands held his wrists against the small of his back, a slightly uncomfortable position that would grow more uncomfortable as time passed. He could feel a slight pull against the collar as a thin chain was attached from a loop at the back of it to the metal encircling his wrists, tightening the leather around his neck when he moved his wrists.

"Uncomfortable, isn't it, Doctor?" The Master's voice was full of satisfaction, and all the Doctor wanted to do was turn around and lash out at him, to drive his fist into that smug, self-satisfied face. But he'd given up that opportunity when he'd placed himself in this man's hands. He had no option now but to take whatever the Master gave him.

"This is as it should be, Doctor," the other man purred, his other hand moving up the front of the Doctor's nude body to tweak his nipples. "As I've always wanted you. How the mighty have fallen, eh? You've lost your standing here, Doctor. You're nothing but a naked receptacle in my eyes. Nothing more than an object to be used."

The Time Lord bowed his head, not opening his eyes. He wasn't going to think about Ianto's touch, Ianto's kiss, Ianto's voice whispering in his ear. He wasn't going to think about those promises of forever, the promises that would never come true. That was the past, it was over and done. This was all he had now. All he would ever have.

He'd had no choice but to do this. It was his atonement, though for what, he wasn't quite sure. Had he made a mistake? His mind screamed at him that this was suicide, this was going too far. But it was too late now -- there was no way out, not until the Master decided to let him go. That could be years. It might last through Ianto's lifetime and beyond.

He pushed all memories of the past from his mind as the Master led him out of the room, trying to make his mind blank and let his thoughts sink into oblivion. This was all he had left. He'd brought himself to this, and he had no choice but to embrace it. After all, he told himself, at least he was falling into a trap of his own making -- even if his every instinct told him that he was making the worst mistake of his life.

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Next story in series - Hope For the Hopeless.