Burning, part 3
Jun. 1st, 2015 11:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scripsiTitle: Burning, part 3 of 3.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Drama? It has some plot, so it’s more than a PWP anyway.
Characters/Pairings: The Master(Ainley)/Sarah Jane Smith
Warnings: Sex. BDSM, but rather light- mostly power play. Consensual, but rather dysfunctional relationship, but then, can any relationship the Master has be anything else?
Summary: Sarah Jane finds life on Earth very boring after the Doctor. Then she meets a stranger who is anything but.
AN: I wasn’t completely satisfied with how the last ended, but at the time I had no idea on how to continue. Now I do, so here is another chapter that will hopefully round off the story better.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
The Master threw Sarah Jane on the bed and she turned to him before he had time to touch her again.
“I’m not complying with your orders anymore. If you want my submission, you will have to take it.”
He pounced at her, faster than any human and she fought him. He laughed at her and it was indeed laughable, Sarah Jane thought, to fight someone who could tear you apart with his bare hands. But it felt good to clash against his strength, to rage against a merciless force. It was harsher, crueller, this time around as if Sarah Jane’s knowledge of whom she had invited to bed had set the Master free to indulge himself. And she answered in kind.
She reared up against him, her teeth sinking into his arm and then she was pinned down, his body hard and unyielding against her. The Master twisted her hands above her head and kissed her, his teeth in turn tearing her lower lip so her mouth filled with the taste of blood. But if his touch was cruel, his voice was soft, like velvet against her ears.
“You are quite magnificent, my Sarah Jane.”
“I’m not yours!”
“Oh yes, tonight you are. Right now you are all mine.”
And it was glorious. Lust and fear and anger set her ablaze over and over, not in the least dampened by her knowledge that in a sense she was fighting for her life. She put no trust in the Master’s promise not to kill her; she courted death tonight. Sarah Jane had learned one thing in the bathroom, something she doubted the Master wanted her to know. He may be the antithesis of the Doctor, but they were still both Time Lords, and they shared the same battle a long life inevitable brought; against boredom.
He had studied her before he had approached her and then he had spent time with her as if she was a new and interesting toy. His decision not to kill her outright was, she was sure, because she amused him more alive. For now. It was terrifyingly easy to conjure up what would happen if she failed to please him. If she had panicked when he broke into the bathroom, would she lie in a sorry heap with a broken neck now? Or if she had meekly submitted, would she have survived that? A strangled corpse for the cleaning lady to find, it was easy to imagine that too.
She had surprised him a few times during the evening, behaved in ways he hadn’t expected and she hoped that would keep him interested enough to let her live. He certainly took pleasure in her fear, but he brought fear with him wherever he went. He must be used to the desperation those he was about to destroy felt. She was sure people had tried to bargain their lives with their bodies before, and she was equally sure it hadn’t worked. But her passion was as real as her terror. It may have come from it in the beginning, but it had taken a life on its own. It had turned into a fierce creature that relished in her situation, however desperate it may be and it would fight, tooth and claw, for her survival.
Sometime during the night Sarah Jane fell asleep, and she slept until she woke up with a start at dawn, grey light filling the room. She sat up in bed and looked around her in near panic even before she remembered what had happened and why her heart was beating so hard. But the room was empty, even if she had to walk around it and peek into the wardrobe, the bathroom and even under the bed before she truly believed she was alone. The Master was gone, and she was still alive. She wondered if her sleep had surprised him too, not many would be able to do so with a wild beast in the room. But she had been so exhausted, both body and soul and deeply convinced that if he wanted to kill her, he would want to see the look in her eyes as life escaped her. He could easily have roused her, but had not, instead he had quietly slipped away.
Would the Master come back? That was an unsettling thought. It would be easy enough for him to return and she couldn’t imagine anything she could do to stop him. Hopefully he had got what he wanted and would leave her alone now. Surely she must be very insignificant to him, someone easy to forget. Sarah Jane hoped so anyway. She still locked the door and after some consideration put the back of a chair under the door handle. It was a silly thing to do against someone who could choose to materialise his TARDIS wherever he wanted to, but it made her feel a bit safer. The bathroom door was, of course, beyond repair. Sarah Jane looked at it and sighed, she would be forced to pay for that, she supposed.
The hotel could provide adequate amounts of warm water and she ran a bath as hot as she could stand. Her whole body felt sore and aching, but the hot water soothed it away somewhat. She closed her eyes and tried to relax, but her frazzled nerves made her jump even at the occasional odd sound from the plumbing system.
Finally alone she could think of the things the Master had told her last night, things she had had to push to the back of her mind when faced with the more immediate danger he presented. The Doctor was gone, and she had slept with the man who had murdered him. Sarah Jane pulled up her legs against her chest and hugged them tightly and cried. She knew he wasn’t dead; she had been with him when he regenerated before, but her Doctor would never come back again. She had loved the one he had been before and she was sure she would love the one he was now, if she ever met him, but the man she had loved most was dead. Now she could stop waiting for him. Though he had not meant it, the Master had relieved her of one burden; the hope of seeing her Doctor again.
Occasionally Sarah Jane had indulged herself in a fantasy where the Doctor returned and begged her to travel with him again and she said no. She had taken great pleasure in imagining how his face would fall, how hurt he would be of her refusal. Now when she had been handed a real weapon, one that could do real damage she found she didn’t want it. If she ever met the Doctor again, she would never tell him of what had happened between her and the Master.
There was still someone who must know, however awkward that made her feel. The Master was much too much of a threat to keep a secret. She had seen UNIT’s dossier over the Master and though there was a superficial likeness between his old face and his new, they would need an upgraded description. Not to mention the fact that the Doctor had regenerated again.
She was supposed to cover the last day of the convention, but instead she made a phone call to UNIT with a special message to Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart. The annoyingly perky young voice at the end of the line was initially unwilling to disturb his superior at home at this early hour. Sarah Jane spoke very slowly and repeated her name, the Doctor and the Master along with urgent and very important until he promised to call. She only had to wait a few minutes before she was called back, not by the man she had just spoken to, but the Brigadier himself.
“Miss Smith, are you unharmed?” He sounded worried and Sarah Jane felt a surge of affection for him, he sounded so safe and solid and comforting. She assured him that there was nothing wrong with her and he told her to stay at the hotel room and wait for an escort which had already been dispatched from UNIT.
Sarah Jane spent her waiting time packing her belongings and making sure her hair and makeup were immaculate. Her encounter with the Master had left bruises, but they were easy to hide with clothing. She looked critically at her swollen lip, but then decided to put on lip gloss and pretend she looked fine.
When she was finished she sat down and tried to collect her thoughts and what she would say to the Brig. She could imagine him, perhaps a little greyer and a bit stouter than when she had seen him last. The expression on his face when she told him and how his voice would sound; completely outraged and baffled.
“You went to bed with whom?”
And then, because it would be easiest to latch on to something akin to normal, he would lecture her on the dangers of picking up strange men in hotel bars. A speech he probably already had rehearsed in wait for the time his daughter would be old enough for it. Sarah Jane smiled a little. She felt that a lecture from the Brigadier like she was an unruly teenager would feel rather consoling. It would make the whole experience a little more mundane, a bit easier to cope with.
There was a knock on the door sooner than she had expected, but then UNIT had people all over the country. Outside stood an escort in the shape of two respectful young soldiers, none that Sarah Jane knew.
“Miss Smith,” they greeted her and the most senior of them stepped inside and surveyed the room. He took in the broken bathroom door and turned to her in alarm. “What happened here? Are you hurt?”
“Yes, I mean no, I’m not hurt.” Sarah Jane, feeling self-conscious, straightened the collar of her blouse knowing, it hid the marks the Master’s fingers had put on her throat. “I’m fine. I’m glad you are here.”
When they came into the lobby they met her disapproving neighbour. He seemed to regard her military escort with satisfaction, evidently thinking she was in trouble. He wagged a finger at her.
“Young lady, let that be a lesson!”
Sarah Jane couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing and was still laughing when they left the hotel.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Drama? It has some plot, so it’s more than a PWP anyway.
Characters/Pairings: The Master(Ainley)/Sarah Jane Smith
Warnings: Sex. BDSM, but rather light- mostly power play. Consensual, but rather dysfunctional relationship, but then, can any relationship the Master has be anything else?
Summary: Sarah Jane finds life on Earth very boring after the Doctor. Then she meets a stranger who is anything but.
AN: I wasn’t completely satisfied with how the last ended, but at the time I had no idea on how to continue. Now I do, so here is another chapter that will hopefully round off the story better.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
The Master threw Sarah Jane on the bed and she turned to him before he had time to touch her again.
“I’m not complying with your orders anymore. If you want my submission, you will have to take it.”
He pounced at her, faster than any human and she fought him. He laughed at her and it was indeed laughable, Sarah Jane thought, to fight someone who could tear you apart with his bare hands. But it felt good to clash against his strength, to rage against a merciless force. It was harsher, crueller, this time around as if Sarah Jane’s knowledge of whom she had invited to bed had set the Master free to indulge himself. And she answered in kind.
She reared up against him, her teeth sinking into his arm and then she was pinned down, his body hard and unyielding against her. The Master twisted her hands above her head and kissed her, his teeth in turn tearing her lower lip so her mouth filled with the taste of blood. But if his touch was cruel, his voice was soft, like velvet against her ears.
“You are quite magnificent, my Sarah Jane.”
“I’m not yours!”
“Oh yes, tonight you are. Right now you are all mine.”
And it was glorious. Lust and fear and anger set her ablaze over and over, not in the least dampened by her knowledge that in a sense she was fighting for her life. She put no trust in the Master’s promise not to kill her; she courted death tonight. Sarah Jane had learned one thing in the bathroom, something she doubted the Master wanted her to know. He may be the antithesis of the Doctor, but they were still both Time Lords, and they shared the same battle a long life inevitable brought; against boredom.
He had studied her before he had approached her and then he had spent time with her as if she was a new and interesting toy. His decision not to kill her outright was, she was sure, because she amused him more alive. For now. It was terrifyingly easy to conjure up what would happen if she failed to please him. If she had panicked when he broke into the bathroom, would she lie in a sorry heap with a broken neck now? Or if she had meekly submitted, would she have survived that? A strangled corpse for the cleaning lady to find, it was easy to imagine that too.
She had surprised him a few times during the evening, behaved in ways he hadn’t expected and she hoped that would keep him interested enough to let her live. He certainly took pleasure in her fear, but he brought fear with him wherever he went. He must be used to the desperation those he was about to destroy felt. She was sure people had tried to bargain their lives with their bodies before, and she was equally sure it hadn’t worked. But her passion was as real as her terror. It may have come from it in the beginning, but it had taken a life on its own. It had turned into a fierce creature that relished in her situation, however desperate it may be and it would fight, tooth and claw, for her survival.
Sometime during the night Sarah Jane fell asleep, and she slept until she woke up with a start at dawn, grey light filling the room. She sat up in bed and looked around her in near panic even before she remembered what had happened and why her heart was beating so hard. But the room was empty, even if she had to walk around it and peek into the wardrobe, the bathroom and even under the bed before she truly believed she was alone. The Master was gone, and she was still alive. She wondered if her sleep had surprised him too, not many would be able to do so with a wild beast in the room. But she had been so exhausted, both body and soul and deeply convinced that if he wanted to kill her, he would want to see the look in her eyes as life escaped her. He could easily have roused her, but had not, instead he had quietly slipped away.
Would the Master come back? That was an unsettling thought. It would be easy enough for him to return and she couldn’t imagine anything she could do to stop him. Hopefully he had got what he wanted and would leave her alone now. Surely she must be very insignificant to him, someone easy to forget. Sarah Jane hoped so anyway. She still locked the door and after some consideration put the back of a chair under the door handle. It was a silly thing to do against someone who could choose to materialise his TARDIS wherever he wanted to, but it made her feel a bit safer. The bathroom door was, of course, beyond repair. Sarah Jane looked at it and sighed, she would be forced to pay for that, she supposed.
The hotel could provide adequate amounts of warm water and she ran a bath as hot as she could stand. Her whole body felt sore and aching, but the hot water soothed it away somewhat. She closed her eyes and tried to relax, but her frazzled nerves made her jump even at the occasional odd sound from the plumbing system.
Finally alone she could think of the things the Master had told her last night, things she had had to push to the back of her mind when faced with the more immediate danger he presented. The Doctor was gone, and she had slept with the man who had murdered him. Sarah Jane pulled up her legs against her chest and hugged them tightly and cried. She knew he wasn’t dead; she had been with him when he regenerated before, but her Doctor would never come back again. She had loved the one he had been before and she was sure she would love the one he was now, if she ever met him, but the man she had loved most was dead. Now she could stop waiting for him. Though he had not meant it, the Master had relieved her of one burden; the hope of seeing her Doctor again.
Occasionally Sarah Jane had indulged herself in a fantasy where the Doctor returned and begged her to travel with him again and she said no. She had taken great pleasure in imagining how his face would fall, how hurt he would be of her refusal. Now when she had been handed a real weapon, one that could do real damage she found she didn’t want it. If she ever met the Doctor again, she would never tell him of what had happened between her and the Master.
There was still someone who must know, however awkward that made her feel. The Master was much too much of a threat to keep a secret. She had seen UNIT’s dossier over the Master and though there was a superficial likeness between his old face and his new, they would need an upgraded description. Not to mention the fact that the Doctor had regenerated again.
She was supposed to cover the last day of the convention, but instead she made a phone call to UNIT with a special message to Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart. The annoyingly perky young voice at the end of the line was initially unwilling to disturb his superior at home at this early hour. Sarah Jane spoke very slowly and repeated her name, the Doctor and the Master along with urgent and very important until he promised to call. She only had to wait a few minutes before she was called back, not by the man she had just spoken to, but the Brigadier himself.
“Miss Smith, are you unharmed?” He sounded worried and Sarah Jane felt a surge of affection for him, he sounded so safe and solid and comforting. She assured him that there was nothing wrong with her and he told her to stay at the hotel room and wait for an escort which had already been dispatched from UNIT.
Sarah Jane spent her waiting time packing her belongings and making sure her hair and makeup were immaculate. Her encounter with the Master had left bruises, but they were easy to hide with clothing. She looked critically at her swollen lip, but then decided to put on lip gloss and pretend she looked fine.
When she was finished she sat down and tried to collect her thoughts and what she would say to the Brig. She could imagine him, perhaps a little greyer and a bit stouter than when she had seen him last. The expression on his face when she told him and how his voice would sound; completely outraged and baffled.
“You went to bed with whom?”
And then, because it would be easiest to latch on to something akin to normal, he would lecture her on the dangers of picking up strange men in hotel bars. A speech he probably already had rehearsed in wait for the time his daughter would be old enough for it. Sarah Jane smiled a little. She felt that a lecture from the Brigadier like she was an unruly teenager would feel rather consoling. It would make the whole experience a little more mundane, a bit easier to cope with.
There was a knock on the door sooner than she had expected, but then UNIT had people all over the country. Outside stood an escort in the shape of two respectful young soldiers, none that Sarah Jane knew.
“Miss Smith,” they greeted her and the most senior of them stepped inside and surveyed the room. He took in the broken bathroom door and turned to her in alarm. “What happened here? Are you hurt?”
“Yes, I mean no, I’m not hurt.” Sarah Jane, feeling self-conscious, straightened the collar of her blouse knowing, it hid the marks the Master’s fingers had put on her throat. “I’m fine. I’m glad you are here.”
When they came into the lobby they met her disapproving neighbour. He seemed to regard her military escort with satisfaction, evidently thinking she was in trouble. He wagged a finger at her.
“Young lady, let that be a lesson!”
Sarah Jane couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing and was still laughing when they left the hotel.
