Professor Keller; chapter 4
Nov. 26th, 2015 01:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scripsiTitle: Professor Keller
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: Teen
Genre: Horror
Word Count: 1790
Chapter: 4/?
Characters: Delgado!Master, Original female character, Original male character
Pairings: The Master/OFC, the Master/OMC, OFC/OMC
Warnings: For this chapter; mind games, implied dubious consent. For the whole fic; mind games. Mental dominance. Brief scenes of violence, but nothing too graphic. Referenced dubious consent, both het and slash. Character death. Suicide attempt.
Summary: Alison and Peter Grey are living a charmed life, young, wealthy and in love. Until they meet a Professor Keller and find themselves trapped in a spiralling nightmare. Set between Terror of the Autons and The Mind of Evil.
(Chapter 1: Party Girl)
(Chapter 2: Watch Your Step)
(Chapter 3: Little Triggers)
You've been warned
You're going to get torn
Alison had a hangover the next day. Not a truly bad one, but she used it as an excuse to stay in bed. Peter, somewhat guilt struck, plied her with tea, but apart from that he left her alone. Now, in broad daylight, the events on the balcony seemed so improbable she almost felt it couldn’t have happened. The more she thought about it, the stranger it seemed. Respectable professors might, possibly, kiss other people, but they didn’t go around slapping them. The Professor must have been drunk as well, that was the only explanation she could come up with, even if he hadn’t seemed inebriated. He must be as mortified as Alison today and it would undoubtedly never happen again. The more she thought about it, the more she felt she shouldn’t say anything about it to Peter. But there was one thing; she could explain away the kiss as something unguarded, provoked by too much to drink, if the Professor hadn’t hit her. Try as she might she couldn't explain that and she knew she had to tell Peter about it. But she felt more and more reluctant to talk about it and every time he came to check on her she decided to delay it a bit longer.
In the early afternoon Peter coaxed her downstairs and fed her an omelette. He looked fresh-faced and was dressed for going out, having made an appointment with the Professor.
“But only if you feel it’s all right,” he told her. “If you don’t feel well, I’ll stay with you, of course.”
Alison, who would rather not be alone, almost said so when it occurred to her that if Peter was going off with Professor Keller, then he wouldn’t come here. If Peter stayed home, then it was quite likely that he would drop by during the evening and she really didn’t want to see him. So she assured Peter she felt better, and that she planned to have a nice long bath and watch something on TV before an early bed.
And still she didn’t tell him of what had happened on the balcony. Peter seemed so happy and she hated to spoil his evening. She had to tell him, but she would wait a little longer. Tomorrow would be good when she had slept away the last lingering traces of the hangover.
After the bath Alison felt a lot better, and she decided to go down to the kitchen to warm some milk with honey. It was a childhood remedy her mother had always insisted on after a nightmare to calm frazzled nerves. She was still tying the belt of her dressing gown when she heard the front door open. Smiling, she ran down the stairs, thinking Peter had decided to stay home with her, after all. But the person she met in the hallway was not her husband but the Professor who was removing his overcoat as if he had just stepped inside his own house.
Alison’s smile froze. “How did you get in here? Where is Peter?”
“With a key, of course. Peter was very understanding when I had to ask him to go alone tonight.”
“How can you have a key? This is my home, you are not welcome!”
He smiled quite kindly. “My dear, I have a key because I asked Peter to give me one.”
For a moment or two the surprise made Alison unable to speak. When she found her voice again it quivered more than she liked. “He never told me. When did this happen?”
The Professor shrugged. “Oh, a week ago, or so.”
“It can’t be true, Peter would have told me. He would! Give it back!”
She held out her hand, but the Professor just tossed the key into the air and caught it, his black-gloved hand closing around it tightly, before he pocketed it.
“No. We have things to discuss.”
“I don’t want to talk with you!”
Alison marched past the Professor to show him out, but before she could open the door, he grabbed her wrist and forced her to an abrupt stop. He was unexpectedly strong, she tried to yank away her arm, but his grip just hardened, making her wince in pain. He pulled her closer to him and without her usual high heels, Alison found she had to look up at him. Clad only in a thin dressing gown she felt vulnerable, and her anger was abruptly washed away in a wave of real fear. Until he had touched her, Alison had felt safe in her home, the house she had made her own and where she belonged. Now she realised they were alone there, and no one knew the Professor was there. He had already proved to be a man capable of behaving a way she had no idea how to handle. Yesterday she hadn’t been afraid because there had been so many people around, but now she was.
“Please leave. You have no right to be here.”
“Rights are for those who take them.” The Professor spoke in a low voice, close to her ear, making Alison shiver. “You, you are all like children here, unformed and thoughtless. You and your husband play with your shiny toys, but you have no purpose in life, no direction. You need someone who takes care of you. Someone to tell you what you should do.”
“That is not true.”
“But it is and you know it. Before I came, your existence were useless.”
Alison wanted to contradict him, but when she reached for something to say, her mind was blank. What had she, truly, done with her life? Instead she made another effort to break away from him though her struggle didn’t seem to have any effect at all.
“You hit me yesterday. And you are hurting me now.” Her voice was very small now.
“And you don’t like being hurt, do you? Pity, pain can be very educational. And not without pleasure, for all involved.”
He let go of her, his hand slid around her waist instead and then pressed into the small of her back, forcing her closer to him. His other hand tilted up her chin so she couldn’t look away.
“Don’t hit me again,” Alison whispered. To her shame she was almost crying, and she blinked hard to stop the tears. “Please.”
“Of course not,” the Professor’s voice was warm now, soothing, and some of Alison's fear subsided. “Because you will not give me any more reason for it. You are going to be a very good girl now, won’t you? So, there's, no need for crying. See, I’m not hurting you anymore, am I?”
Alison shook her head, and he smiled again. “I gather you didn’t tell Peter anything about our little encounter yesterday. Tell me, why not?”
“I- I don’t really know.”
“I will tell you why. Because you already know Peter won’t believe you.”
“Of course he will.”
“Are you sure about that? I don’t think so. Peter trusts me, you see. I’m his friend; I have his best interests at heart. Why would he believe you when he already knows you were drunk yesterday?”
Alison wanted to protest, she had never even considered that Peter wouldn’t believe her, but now she felt doubtful, all the same.
“And even if he believed you, what would happen then? What would it do to him? He would be very upset, wouldn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“I have been good for him. You know how lost he felt before I came here. I have given him the purpose he has been longing after for a long time. Can you deny that?”
What he said was true, Peter would be devastated if he knew, which truly was the reason she had held off from telling him.
“No, I can’t.”
“And you love him very much. You don’t want to make him unhappy. So you won’t tell him.”
The words slid into her mind, like snakes, twisting and turning and Alison found it difficult to collect her thoughts. While he spoke the hand on her back had gently pushed her closer to him and though he let go of her chin, she could not make herself look away. He had so very strange eyes, now they seemed to darken and it felt that by just meeting his gaze, she lost all hope of thinking clearly. She didn’t want to hurt Peter, and that was all she would accomplish by telling him. Yes, better to not say anything about it. It wasn’t important enough to make Peter feel miserable.
And all while the Professor told her all these things his hands moved over her body, slithering over the silk of her dressing gown. Slow, languid movements that Alison didn’t even notice at first. Now she did, and she twisted in his arms to escape the caress.
“I won’t tell Peter, but please, stop touching me. It’s not right.”
He laughed. “As if I care about your petty moral codes. It feels good, doesn’t it?”
Alison didn’t want to answer. It felt good, more than good, really, but she didn’t want to tell him. Her heart was beating very hard, but she couldn’t tell if it was fear or excitement, or a bit of both.
Eventually Alison nodded. If she agreed, perhaps he would be satisfied and leave her alone.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You will call me Master. Now give me a proper answer.”
It took her two tries to form the words, they felt uncomfortable and unwilling in her mouth.
“Yes, Master.”
A look of deep satisfaction flickered over his features and then he gently cupped the back of her head and kissed her. A slow, lingering kiss this time. Like the day before his lips were cool, and coolness invaded her mouth along with the taste of cigars. Before she knew it she answered the kiss and when the Professor released her, she was breathless and flustered.
“Listen to me, Alison. It is all so very simple. Obey me and everything will be well. As long as you do as I say, you will have nothing to worry about. Submit to my commands and I will take care of you. But if you are disobedient, you will be punished.”
Then he finally let go of her, only to reach out his hand to her. “Comply and you will have nothing to be afraid of.”
Alison put her hand in his, it looked very white against the black leather and allowed him to lead her into the library. But though this made her feel oddly exalted, deep down she was more scared than she had ever been before in her life.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: Teen
Genre: Horror
Word Count: 1790
Chapter: 4/?
Characters: Delgado!Master, Original female character, Original male character
Pairings: The Master/OFC, the Master/OMC, OFC/OMC
Warnings: For this chapter; mind games, implied dubious consent. For the whole fic; mind games. Mental dominance. Brief scenes of violence, but nothing too graphic. Referenced dubious consent, both het and slash. Character death. Suicide attempt.
Summary: Alison and Peter Grey are living a charmed life, young, wealthy and in love. Until they meet a Professor Keller and find themselves trapped in a spiralling nightmare. Set between Terror of the Autons and The Mind of Evil.
(Chapter 1: Party Girl)
(Chapter 2: Watch Your Step)
(Chapter 3: Little Triggers)
You've been warned
You're going to get torn
Alison had a hangover the next day. Not a truly bad one, but she used it as an excuse to stay in bed. Peter, somewhat guilt struck, plied her with tea, but apart from that he left her alone. Now, in broad daylight, the events on the balcony seemed so improbable she almost felt it couldn’t have happened. The more she thought about it, the stranger it seemed. Respectable professors might, possibly, kiss other people, but they didn’t go around slapping them. The Professor must have been drunk as well, that was the only explanation she could come up with, even if he hadn’t seemed inebriated. He must be as mortified as Alison today and it would undoubtedly never happen again. The more she thought about it, the more she felt she shouldn’t say anything about it to Peter. But there was one thing; she could explain away the kiss as something unguarded, provoked by too much to drink, if the Professor hadn’t hit her. Try as she might she couldn't explain that and she knew she had to tell Peter about it. But she felt more and more reluctant to talk about it and every time he came to check on her she decided to delay it a bit longer.
In the early afternoon Peter coaxed her downstairs and fed her an omelette. He looked fresh-faced and was dressed for going out, having made an appointment with the Professor.
“But only if you feel it’s all right,” he told her. “If you don’t feel well, I’ll stay with you, of course.”
Alison, who would rather not be alone, almost said so when it occurred to her that if Peter was going off with Professor Keller, then he wouldn’t come here. If Peter stayed home, then it was quite likely that he would drop by during the evening and she really didn’t want to see him. So she assured Peter she felt better, and that she planned to have a nice long bath and watch something on TV before an early bed.
And still she didn’t tell him of what had happened on the balcony. Peter seemed so happy and she hated to spoil his evening. She had to tell him, but she would wait a little longer. Tomorrow would be good when she had slept away the last lingering traces of the hangover.
After the bath Alison felt a lot better, and she decided to go down to the kitchen to warm some milk with honey. It was a childhood remedy her mother had always insisted on after a nightmare to calm frazzled nerves. She was still tying the belt of her dressing gown when she heard the front door open. Smiling, she ran down the stairs, thinking Peter had decided to stay home with her, after all. But the person she met in the hallway was not her husband but the Professor who was removing his overcoat as if he had just stepped inside his own house.
Alison’s smile froze. “How did you get in here? Where is Peter?”
“With a key, of course. Peter was very understanding when I had to ask him to go alone tonight.”
“How can you have a key? This is my home, you are not welcome!”
He smiled quite kindly. “My dear, I have a key because I asked Peter to give me one.”
For a moment or two the surprise made Alison unable to speak. When she found her voice again it quivered more than she liked. “He never told me. When did this happen?”
The Professor shrugged. “Oh, a week ago, or so.”
“It can’t be true, Peter would have told me. He would! Give it back!”
She held out her hand, but the Professor just tossed the key into the air and caught it, his black-gloved hand closing around it tightly, before he pocketed it.
“No. We have things to discuss.”
“I don’t want to talk with you!”
Alison marched past the Professor to show him out, but before she could open the door, he grabbed her wrist and forced her to an abrupt stop. He was unexpectedly strong, she tried to yank away her arm, but his grip just hardened, making her wince in pain. He pulled her closer to him and without her usual high heels, Alison found she had to look up at him. Clad only in a thin dressing gown she felt vulnerable, and her anger was abruptly washed away in a wave of real fear. Until he had touched her, Alison had felt safe in her home, the house she had made her own and where she belonged. Now she realised they were alone there, and no one knew the Professor was there. He had already proved to be a man capable of behaving a way she had no idea how to handle. Yesterday she hadn’t been afraid because there had been so many people around, but now she was.
“Please leave. You have no right to be here.”
“Rights are for those who take them.” The Professor spoke in a low voice, close to her ear, making Alison shiver. “You, you are all like children here, unformed and thoughtless. You and your husband play with your shiny toys, but you have no purpose in life, no direction. You need someone who takes care of you. Someone to tell you what you should do.”
“That is not true.”
“But it is and you know it. Before I came, your existence were useless.”
Alison wanted to contradict him, but when she reached for something to say, her mind was blank. What had she, truly, done with her life? Instead she made another effort to break away from him though her struggle didn’t seem to have any effect at all.
“You hit me yesterday. And you are hurting me now.” Her voice was very small now.
“And you don’t like being hurt, do you? Pity, pain can be very educational. And not without pleasure, for all involved.”
He let go of her, his hand slid around her waist instead and then pressed into the small of her back, forcing her closer to him. His other hand tilted up her chin so she couldn’t look away.
“Don’t hit me again,” Alison whispered. To her shame she was almost crying, and she blinked hard to stop the tears. “Please.”
“Of course not,” the Professor’s voice was warm now, soothing, and some of Alison's fear subsided. “Because you will not give me any more reason for it. You are going to be a very good girl now, won’t you? So, there's, no need for crying. See, I’m not hurting you anymore, am I?”
Alison shook her head, and he smiled again. “I gather you didn’t tell Peter anything about our little encounter yesterday. Tell me, why not?”
“I- I don’t really know.”
“I will tell you why. Because you already know Peter won’t believe you.”
“Of course he will.”
“Are you sure about that? I don’t think so. Peter trusts me, you see. I’m his friend; I have his best interests at heart. Why would he believe you when he already knows you were drunk yesterday?”
Alison wanted to protest, she had never even considered that Peter wouldn’t believe her, but now she felt doubtful, all the same.
“And even if he believed you, what would happen then? What would it do to him? He would be very upset, wouldn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“I have been good for him. You know how lost he felt before I came here. I have given him the purpose he has been longing after for a long time. Can you deny that?”
What he said was true, Peter would be devastated if he knew, which truly was the reason she had held off from telling him.
“No, I can’t.”
“And you love him very much. You don’t want to make him unhappy. So you won’t tell him.”
The words slid into her mind, like snakes, twisting and turning and Alison found it difficult to collect her thoughts. While he spoke the hand on her back had gently pushed her closer to him and though he let go of her chin, she could not make herself look away. He had so very strange eyes, now they seemed to darken and it felt that by just meeting his gaze, she lost all hope of thinking clearly. She didn’t want to hurt Peter, and that was all she would accomplish by telling him. Yes, better to not say anything about it. It wasn’t important enough to make Peter feel miserable.
And all while the Professor told her all these things his hands moved over her body, slithering over the silk of her dressing gown. Slow, languid movements that Alison didn’t even notice at first. Now she did, and she twisted in his arms to escape the caress.
“I won’t tell Peter, but please, stop touching me. It’s not right.”
He laughed. “As if I care about your petty moral codes. It feels good, doesn’t it?”
Alison didn’t want to answer. It felt good, more than good, really, but she didn’t want to tell him. Her heart was beating very hard, but she couldn’t tell if it was fear or excitement, or a bit of both.
Eventually Alison nodded. If she agreed, perhaps he would be satisfied and leave her alone.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You will call me Master. Now give me a proper answer.”
It took her two tries to form the words, they felt uncomfortable and unwilling in her mouth.
“Yes, Master.”
A look of deep satisfaction flickered over his features and then he gently cupped the back of her head and kissed her. A slow, lingering kiss this time. Like the day before his lips were cool, and coolness invaded her mouth along with the taste of cigars. Before she knew it she answered the kiss and when the Professor released her, she was breathless and flustered.
“Listen to me, Alison. It is all so very simple. Obey me and everything will be well. As long as you do as I say, you will have nothing to worry about. Submit to my commands and I will take care of you. But if you are disobedient, you will be punished.”
Then he finally let go of her, only to reach out his hand to her. “Comply and you will have nothing to be afraid of.”
Alison put her hand in his, it looked very white against the black leather and allowed him to lead her into the library. But though this made her feel oddly exalted, deep down she was more scared than she had ever been before in her life.
