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best_enemies2011-02-13 05:31 pm
one-true-bee.livejournal.com) wrote in best_enemies2011-02-13 05:31 pm
Entry tags:
Soon (Ainley!Master/Five)
Title: Soon
Pairing: Ainley!Master/Five
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Strong D/s, tamed!Doctor
The Doctor began to wonder exactly when it was he stopped caring. No, perhaps that was too severe. He was the Doctor; he never stopped caring. No. What he really wondered was when it was he stopped actively caring.
That day the Master was holding a gathering, one of his assemblies of new ‘ambassadors’; that was his name for the people he had twisted and corrupted into taking charge of cities for him. ‘Cities for now’, the Master had said. He would soon work up to planets. Unfortunately the Master was not one of those people to whom ‘soon’ was synonymous with ‘eventually’. For the Master, ‘soon’ meant ‘presently.’ He was nothing if not proactive.
The Doctor knew some of those around the table. Names and faces, some fleeting recollections and others he had once spoken to at length. Now though, they simply looked over his head. That, the Doctor supposed, was not difficult. He was sat at the Master’s feet and the table hid him from view of all but a few of them. The Master’s fingers were immersed in his hair. He petted the Doctor absent-mindedly as he talked. The Doctor was faintly amused by the nature of his attentions. When he spoke of conquest his fingers tightened and even pulled. As he spoke of other things, his fingers stilled. When the ambassadors addressed him, the touch became exploratory, even erotic. The Master never did have much of an attention span when it came to listening to others speak. Lingeringly he would drag his fingers down to the Doctor’s cheek, hauling him flush to his thigh and holding him there as he dipped his fingers lewdly into the Doctor’s mouth, expecting him to lick and suck. The Doctor, shortly after his captivity, had quickly learnt to lick and suck anything that was presented to his lips.
The Master was talking again. He dragged his wet fingertips up the Doctor’s cheek then removed his hands altogether, placing them on the table above the Doctor’s head. The Doctor attempted to make sense of the Master’s plans, but he had missed too much. He had let himself become distracted from the swathes of information in which he should have been wallowing. Did he no longer wish to escape? Did he no longer wish to overthrow his… no, the Master. He should have been moved to anger by these plans for war, for destruction. But foremost in his mind was the return of the Master’s attentions.
He risked shuffling a little closer, not touching but close enough that the Master would feel his presence through the silken black trousers he wore. The Doctor let the soft fabric brush against his face and shivered longingly. He wondered if he had been hypnotised somehow. The most sickening thing was that he knew he hadn’t. No, he was really feeling this, and that was worse. So, so much worse.
“Tell me Ambassador Ahayed, what news of the campaign on the Eastern side of the desert?”
The Doctor could not restrain a quiet, breathy moan when the Master’s hand returned, caressing his hair against the skin at the back of his neck. Ambassador Ahayed was speaking but the Doctor barely heard a word of it. His attention was focused on the desperate throbbing of his erection. The Master had denied him for days. His pleasure was not important apparently and quite often the Master took his own pleasure from making certain the Doctor was incapable of finishing. Yet when he ‘behaved well’, which the Doctor had worked out to mean conducting himself like a desperate whore, he was rewarded by being allowed pleasure of his own. It was a part of the control that the Master had exerted over him and it was powerful.
The Master’s fingers travelled gently into the Doctor’s thick blonde hair and tangled there, fisting roughly and pulling the Doctor’s face into his lap. Immediately the Doctor was assailed by the scent; the Master was certainly aroused. His hardness tented the crotch of his light silk trousers. The Doctor breathed that scent and pressed his face against the stiff shape of the Master’s cock. Disregarding the drone of Ahayed’s continuing monologue, he tongued the warm flesh through the trousers, becoming increasingly enthusiastic.
The Master yanked his hair hard, pulling him back. With his other hand he deftly unlaced his trousers, freed his erection and forced the Doctor’s head back onto it. The Doctor, once he had enough freedom of movement, took the Master’s cock into his mouth. He forced himself to avoid thoughts of the men and women sat around the table. He knew they knew what was going on right now, it made him shiver with both embarrassment and arousal.
The Master petted his hair softly stroking with lingering touches. The Doctor wrapped his fingers around the base of the Master’s erection and continued to pleasure him, stroking with his fingers at the same time as swirling his tongue. He knew that would feel so good. Removing his hand he took the entirety of the Master’s cock into his mouth, feeling it pressing into the back of his throat. As he tried to pull back, the Master’s fingers tightened, holding him in place. This was a test. Would he dare to fight, cough and splutter? Would he dare let Ambassador Ahayed know exactly how little the Master was paying attention? The Doctor knew how much that would displease him and combined with the exponentially reduced chance of his own arousal finally being dealt with, he simply controlled his breathing through his nose, making certain that no matter what the Master did, the Doctor would not make a sound. The Master would have to concede, there was no way he would vigorously face-fuck his pet under the table whilst convening a meeting of his warmongering puppets.
“Out,” said the Master suddenly, interrupting Ahayed’s stream of words and surprising the Doctor. He was not shouting, just speaking firmly, but the Doctor had not expected to hear his voice. “We’ll complete this later. Now, all of you. Out.”
Wooden chairs scraped against the hard tiled floor that had given the Doctor bruises on his knees the size of plump, ripe apples. The moment the door to the room closed, the Doctor was dragged out from beneath the table by his hair and forced face-first onto the flat wooden surface. The Master’s elbow dug into the small of his back, nudging aside his tattered white shirt.
“You’ve been asking for it all day,” purred the Master, with his trademark gentle chuckle.
The sound chilled the Doctor, it was pure evil. Nonetheless his cock kicked hard in his trousers.
“I’ll only interrupt my work for you this once.”
The Master gripped the waist of the Doctor’s trousers and yanked them past his hips. His other hand pressed hard into the Doctor’s back, pushing him down hard against the warm wood.
“All ready for me as always. Perfect.” He removed the wide plug from the Doctor’s rear and without hesitation pushed his cock directly inside. The Doctor had been wearing the plug since early that morning. It had certainly been contributing to his constant arousal and now replaced with the warm length of the Master’s cock, the feeling was even better. He moaned aloud.
“Slut,” growled the Master, yanking at his hair. With his other hand he gripped the Doctor’s hip and began to pound into him rapidly. He was evidently not in the mood to tease. Since the Doctor had been taken prisoner, the Master had found new and wonderful ways to tease the Doctor, including once finding a way to fuck him for over an hour continuously without coming himself. That night he’d forced the Doctor to orgasm three times all whilst the Master’s cock pushed rhythmically slowly inside of him, showing no indication that his own release was near or that he had even desired it.
It was not slow now, the Master was thrusting into him desperately. The Doctor’s own arousal hung uselessly down below the table where he could not reach it even if he dared to try.
“Oh,” gasped the Master. “Oh my…” He leant right over, pressing against the Doctor’s back and held his hips even tighter, driving into him shallowly but so quickly the Doctor wondered where he had found all this energy from.
The Master’s nose glanced the Doctor’s shoulder and then he returned with some intent, pushing aside the remains of Doctor’s shirt collar and sinking his teeth into the join of neck and shoulder.
The Doctor failed to keep quiet; he yelped with the sudden pain. The Master did not seem to notice, he moaned loudly himself, pushed his cock deep, deep inside and stilled against the Doctor’s back. It took a moment for the Doctor to realise that the Master had just come inside him but the instant he did, he whimpered in desperation.
The Master pulled back, grabbed the Doctor by the shoulder he had just bitten into and flipped him onto his front. He leant against the sore spot with most of his weight, forcing the Doctor to wince and writhe in discomfort.
“Stay there,” he ordered and then, incredibly, dropped to his knees in front of the Doctor. Before the Doctor could do much more than prop himself up against the table the Master had engulfed his cock in one deep mouthful.
With a cry of relief the Doctor flopped back and flung his forearm over his face. “Oh please,” he whimpered.
The Master sucked, lifted his head once and then engulfed the Doctor’s erection again. The Doctor immediately exploded, crying out with the pleasure he had finally been able to release. His orgasm was so powerful that his cock immediately felt sore as the Master let it slip from his mouth.
The Doctor, his cheeks flushed with heat, his breath short, was not given a moment to recover. The Master’s lips were on his and as he parted his own, the Master swapped the salty, bitter fluid of his own release into his mouth. The Master kissed him only briefly, pulling away moments later with the words “now, swallow.”
The Doctor did as he was bade without a second thought.
“Very good. Now, tidy yourself up and go to my chambers. You’ve earned yourself a place in my bed tonight,” said the Master matter-of-factly as he laced himself back into his silk trousers. “Go on then!”
The Doctor clambered from the table. He gripped the trousers that had ridden down his thighs and pulled them up, feeling his cheeks burn as the Master appraised him.
On his way to the Master’s chambers, the Doctor considered. He knew where his TARDIS was and he was not being watched. He could slip away right now and be in a whole other region of time and space before the Master even knew he had gone. But he’d just been promised a night in the Master’s bed. That meant a night in his arms. If there was one thing the Doctor needed more than anything else it was …
He would escape. Yes he would, but not now.
Soon. Eventually.
Pairing: Ainley!Master/Five
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Strong D/s, tamed!Doctor
The Doctor began to wonder exactly when it was he stopped caring. No, perhaps that was too severe. He was the Doctor; he never stopped caring. No. What he really wondered was when it was he stopped actively caring.
That day the Master was holding a gathering, one of his assemblies of new ‘ambassadors’; that was his name for the people he had twisted and corrupted into taking charge of cities for him. ‘Cities for now’, the Master had said. He would soon work up to planets. Unfortunately the Master was not one of those people to whom ‘soon’ was synonymous with ‘eventually’. For the Master, ‘soon’ meant ‘presently.’ He was nothing if not proactive.
The Doctor knew some of those around the table. Names and faces, some fleeting recollections and others he had once spoken to at length. Now though, they simply looked over his head. That, the Doctor supposed, was not difficult. He was sat at the Master’s feet and the table hid him from view of all but a few of them. The Master’s fingers were immersed in his hair. He petted the Doctor absent-mindedly as he talked. The Doctor was faintly amused by the nature of his attentions. When he spoke of conquest his fingers tightened and even pulled. As he spoke of other things, his fingers stilled. When the ambassadors addressed him, the touch became exploratory, even erotic. The Master never did have much of an attention span when it came to listening to others speak. Lingeringly he would drag his fingers down to the Doctor’s cheek, hauling him flush to his thigh and holding him there as he dipped his fingers lewdly into the Doctor’s mouth, expecting him to lick and suck. The Doctor, shortly after his captivity, had quickly learnt to lick and suck anything that was presented to his lips.
The Master was talking again. He dragged his wet fingertips up the Doctor’s cheek then removed his hands altogether, placing them on the table above the Doctor’s head. The Doctor attempted to make sense of the Master’s plans, but he had missed too much. He had let himself become distracted from the swathes of information in which he should have been wallowing. Did he no longer wish to escape? Did he no longer wish to overthrow his… no, the Master. He should have been moved to anger by these plans for war, for destruction. But foremost in his mind was the return of the Master’s attentions.
He risked shuffling a little closer, not touching but close enough that the Master would feel his presence through the silken black trousers he wore. The Doctor let the soft fabric brush against his face and shivered longingly. He wondered if he had been hypnotised somehow. The most sickening thing was that he knew he hadn’t. No, he was really feeling this, and that was worse. So, so much worse.
“Tell me Ambassador Ahayed, what news of the campaign on the Eastern side of the desert?”
The Doctor could not restrain a quiet, breathy moan when the Master’s hand returned, caressing his hair against the skin at the back of his neck. Ambassador Ahayed was speaking but the Doctor barely heard a word of it. His attention was focused on the desperate throbbing of his erection. The Master had denied him for days. His pleasure was not important apparently and quite often the Master took his own pleasure from making certain the Doctor was incapable of finishing. Yet when he ‘behaved well’, which the Doctor had worked out to mean conducting himself like a desperate whore, he was rewarded by being allowed pleasure of his own. It was a part of the control that the Master had exerted over him and it was powerful.
The Master’s fingers travelled gently into the Doctor’s thick blonde hair and tangled there, fisting roughly and pulling the Doctor’s face into his lap. Immediately the Doctor was assailed by the scent; the Master was certainly aroused. His hardness tented the crotch of his light silk trousers. The Doctor breathed that scent and pressed his face against the stiff shape of the Master’s cock. Disregarding the drone of Ahayed’s continuing monologue, he tongued the warm flesh through the trousers, becoming increasingly enthusiastic.
The Master yanked his hair hard, pulling him back. With his other hand he deftly unlaced his trousers, freed his erection and forced the Doctor’s head back onto it. The Doctor, once he had enough freedom of movement, took the Master’s cock into his mouth. He forced himself to avoid thoughts of the men and women sat around the table. He knew they knew what was going on right now, it made him shiver with both embarrassment and arousal.
The Master petted his hair softly stroking with lingering touches. The Doctor wrapped his fingers around the base of the Master’s erection and continued to pleasure him, stroking with his fingers at the same time as swirling his tongue. He knew that would feel so good. Removing his hand he took the entirety of the Master’s cock into his mouth, feeling it pressing into the back of his throat. As he tried to pull back, the Master’s fingers tightened, holding him in place. This was a test. Would he dare to fight, cough and splutter? Would he dare let Ambassador Ahayed know exactly how little the Master was paying attention? The Doctor knew how much that would displease him and combined with the exponentially reduced chance of his own arousal finally being dealt with, he simply controlled his breathing through his nose, making certain that no matter what the Master did, the Doctor would not make a sound. The Master would have to concede, there was no way he would vigorously face-fuck his pet under the table whilst convening a meeting of his warmongering puppets.
“Out,” said the Master suddenly, interrupting Ahayed’s stream of words and surprising the Doctor. He was not shouting, just speaking firmly, but the Doctor had not expected to hear his voice. “We’ll complete this later. Now, all of you. Out.”
Wooden chairs scraped against the hard tiled floor that had given the Doctor bruises on his knees the size of plump, ripe apples. The moment the door to the room closed, the Doctor was dragged out from beneath the table by his hair and forced face-first onto the flat wooden surface. The Master’s elbow dug into the small of his back, nudging aside his tattered white shirt.
“You’ve been asking for it all day,” purred the Master, with his trademark gentle chuckle.
The sound chilled the Doctor, it was pure evil. Nonetheless his cock kicked hard in his trousers.
“I’ll only interrupt my work for you this once.”
The Master gripped the waist of the Doctor’s trousers and yanked them past his hips. His other hand pressed hard into the Doctor’s back, pushing him down hard against the warm wood.
“All ready for me as always. Perfect.” He removed the wide plug from the Doctor’s rear and without hesitation pushed his cock directly inside. The Doctor had been wearing the plug since early that morning. It had certainly been contributing to his constant arousal and now replaced with the warm length of the Master’s cock, the feeling was even better. He moaned aloud.
“Slut,” growled the Master, yanking at his hair. With his other hand he gripped the Doctor’s hip and began to pound into him rapidly. He was evidently not in the mood to tease. Since the Doctor had been taken prisoner, the Master had found new and wonderful ways to tease the Doctor, including once finding a way to fuck him for over an hour continuously without coming himself. That night he’d forced the Doctor to orgasm three times all whilst the Master’s cock pushed rhythmically slowly inside of him, showing no indication that his own release was near or that he had even desired it.
It was not slow now, the Master was thrusting into him desperately. The Doctor’s own arousal hung uselessly down below the table where he could not reach it even if he dared to try.
“Oh,” gasped the Master. “Oh my…” He leant right over, pressing against the Doctor’s back and held his hips even tighter, driving into him shallowly but so quickly the Doctor wondered where he had found all this energy from.
The Master’s nose glanced the Doctor’s shoulder and then he returned with some intent, pushing aside the remains of Doctor’s shirt collar and sinking his teeth into the join of neck and shoulder.
The Doctor failed to keep quiet; he yelped with the sudden pain. The Master did not seem to notice, he moaned loudly himself, pushed his cock deep, deep inside and stilled against the Doctor’s back. It took a moment for the Doctor to realise that the Master had just come inside him but the instant he did, he whimpered in desperation.
The Master pulled back, grabbed the Doctor by the shoulder he had just bitten into and flipped him onto his front. He leant against the sore spot with most of his weight, forcing the Doctor to wince and writhe in discomfort.
“Stay there,” he ordered and then, incredibly, dropped to his knees in front of the Doctor. Before the Doctor could do much more than prop himself up against the table the Master had engulfed his cock in one deep mouthful.
With a cry of relief the Doctor flopped back and flung his forearm over his face. “Oh please,” he whimpered.
The Master sucked, lifted his head once and then engulfed the Doctor’s erection again. The Doctor immediately exploded, crying out with the pleasure he had finally been able to release. His orgasm was so powerful that his cock immediately felt sore as the Master let it slip from his mouth.
The Doctor, his cheeks flushed with heat, his breath short, was not given a moment to recover. The Master’s lips were on his and as he parted his own, the Master swapped the salty, bitter fluid of his own release into his mouth. The Master kissed him only briefly, pulling away moments later with the words “now, swallow.”
The Doctor did as he was bade without a second thought.
“Very good. Now, tidy yourself up and go to my chambers. You’ve earned yourself a place in my bed tonight,” said the Master matter-of-factly as he laced himself back into his silk trousers. “Go on then!”
The Doctor clambered from the table. He gripped the trousers that had ridden down his thighs and pulled them up, feeling his cheeks burn as the Master appraised him.
On his way to the Master’s chambers, the Doctor considered. He knew where his TARDIS was and he was not being watched. He could slip away right now and be in a whole other region of time and space before the Master even knew he had gone. But he’d just been promised a night in the Master’s bed. That meant a night in his arms. If there was one thing the Doctor needed more than anything else it was …
He would escape. Yes he would, but not now.
Soon. Eventually.