Chapter Text
The Doctor whimpered softly.
He was lying on his stomach again. He didn’t like it that much, because his neck hurt whenever he tried to raise his head, but it was considerably better than before, when he was on his back. His arms are still tied together and it hurt when they were pressed against the bed by his weight, so now is really really better, they don’t hurt that much, they almost don’t hurt at all. But that doesn’t change anything. It still hurts. What he’s doing.
The Master.
Sitting on this ridiculously giant bed, way too far from him, looking, not saying anything. He’s only smiling. But his smile is cold and dry. Like a razor. He isn’t moving at all, except from his right hand, that’s very very slowly stroking himself. He knows this is too much for the Doctor that always wants to be involved, he’s so eager to have fun and please… The Master breathes slowly, steadily, savoring the frustration in the air. He could sense that as naturally as a predator senses there’s food nearby. It’s innate and makes him want to play, oh, so much.
He licks his lips and stops moving completely. The only thing moving is his hungry eyes and chest, nothing can be heard but his steady breathing, The Doctor is speechless in anticipation now, hoping that if he’s quiet and obedient, then, maybe, just maybe, The Master will change his mind…
If only…
“Cat got your tongue, Doctah…?” he asks, enunciating the last syllable in a way that makes the aforementioned Doctah swallow hard.
“I explained the rules to you more than once… And you know how serious I am with rules and how much I dislike repeating myself…” nods emphatically towards him while in the same time shredding his soul into pieces with his eyes. Those eyes… The Doctor loved them as much as he feared them.
“I do not like it when you take initiative. Let’s say I’m a control freak… So, no, you don’t even try taking the control away from a control freak, not if you don’t want to end up hogtied for the rest of the evening or week…” Glances.
“...or month… quite possibly…” Smirks.
The Doctor swallows once again and then says nothing. It’d only be against him, he knows. The Master is only taunting, he doesn’t really want him to answer. It’d be better if he stroked his larger than life ego by letting him talk and boast, until he grew tired and full of himself. Which wasn’t going to happen soon enough…
He lowers his gaze and sighs as softly as he can at the mattress.
“So, I take it that you are regretting your inappropriate and disobedient attitude towards your Master. Good.”
He nods majestically; his cockiness is violently pushing the oxygen off the room.
Gets up, leaving the Doctor’s field of vision. The Doctor tries to follow him with his eyes, but he can only stretch up to a certain point and cannot turn his head because of the way The Master has tied his arms behind his back. Even if he could, though, he doesn’t even try. The Master would undoubtedly see him, maybe he’d expect that as well, and he’d hit him or hurt him again. Better safe than sorry. Very worried though, because he can hear him open things and move around and can’t tell whether he’s making a sandwich or perhaps readying carving knives. Much as the Master could be predictable, he could be equally unpredictable and this unpredictability he demonstrates right away, by slamming the door behind him and leaving The Doctor alone in the room, lying on the bed, not being able to move.
He could never understand what was going into The Master’s head. Whenever he thought he did, or at least getting close, he always did something to prove him wrong.
The Doctor whimpered softly once again. He’d have to wait for now.