Title: Puppet Master
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Table: 10, 50episodes
Prompt: 13, Master
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.

***

The Master grasped a handful of the Doctor's hair, pulling the Time Lord's head back until he whimpered in pain. "What do you think your lover will think when he sees you like this, Doctor?" the Master purred as his hips thrust forward into the other man again.

The Doctor struggled not to whimper again, not to cry out, not to give the Master any kind of satisfaction. But a small, strangled sob broke free, despite his efforts to contain it. He couldn't completely hold back the reactions of his traitorous body, though he tried his best.

He didn't want this. Ianto would know that he didn't want this. The Master simply assumed that he and Ianto had a mistrustful relationship, that his young lover would be angry about him being with another man, whether it was against his will or not.

Well, the Master was wrong. Ianto would know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Doctor was being taken against his will, that he had no joy and no desire in this. They were too closely connected in heart and soul for him not to realize that fact.

The Master pulled back, then thrust into him again, more quickly and fiercely than before. His lust was growing; the Doctor knew from past experience that this couldn't last much longer. The Master had some stamina, as did any Time Lord, but he couldn't keep this up forever.

As though the other man had sensed his thoughts, he felt the Master's body start to shudder; he knew that an orgasm was imminent, and he tensed his muscles in readiness for the last round of punishment from his assailant's body before the brutality ended.

Another thrust .... then another. Then there was a warm rush and a cry of triumph from the Master; the Doctor's own body went limp, but not before he felt the rush of his own climax through his body, sharp and quick, more shameful than pleasurable.

Nothing about this had anything to do with pleasure, he told himself, bracing on his hands and knees to keep his weak limbs from collapsing. It was about power and control, the Master's need to dominate him and to exert control over everything he did.

He was just glad that the Master hadn't been able to get to Ianto; wherever his lover was, he was hidden well, and Ianto was smart enough not to give up his whereabouts to the Master. Though if he thought that the Doctor's life was in danger, he would do so immediately.

The Doctor knew that Ianto was near; he could feel his lover's presence through the intimate bond that they shared, as well as through the gentle pulsing of the pendant that even now was glowing around his throat. It was a comfort to know that his lover was somewhere near.

The Master pulled out of him and stood up; the Doctor didn't move, not wanting to look at the other man and see the smile of satisfaction that he was sure resided on those saturnine features. It was bad enough to be in this position; he didn't want to seem subservient in any way.

But that was what this was all about, wasn't it? The Master wanted to assert his dominance over the Doctor -- and probably Ianto, too, if he could manage to capture both of them. Just the thought of this megalomaniacal monster touching his lover made the Doctor's blood run cold.

No matter what happened, he was going to keep Ianto safe, he vowed. No one was going to touch the man he loved -- even if he had to sacrifice himself to more of this to protect the other man. The Master might be able to take him, but he'd never touch Ianto.

He only hoped that his young lover wasn't going to come up with the less-than-stellar idea of sacrificing himself to save the Doctor. That was no solution; the Master would do anything he could to make sure that Ianto was out of the picture permanently if that happened.

No, Ianto wouldn't be so foolhardy. He knew that there were risks involved in dealing with the Master, and he wasn't going to jump into the center of those risks head first without being sure that they had a way out. Ianto was smarter than that; he wouldn't rush in without a plan.

Ianto wasn't Jack, the Doctor reminded himself. Jack would go rushing in without thinking about whatever consequences might ensue, but Ianto was more methodical than that. He would wait until the coast was clear, until there was a way that he could get both of them out of here.

The Master leaned down to grip the Doctor's hair again, but this time his captive didn't utter a sound. He sneered into the Doctor's ear, his voice a sibilant hiss. "I know that your lover is here, Doctor. He'll show himself sooner or later. And until he does, this won't stop."

The Doctor's hearts felt as though they were sinking to his heels; he didn't know how much more of this abuse he could take. It had been two days now, and he'd lost count of the times that the Master had forced him into an intimacy he didn't want.

If Ianto was somewhere near, he hoped that his lover had thought of some way to rescue him; he couldn't let the Master violate him indefinitely before some cracks would start to show in the facade of stoicism he was so carefully keeping in place.

He had faith in Ianto. His lover was here; he could feel that presence, even though the other man hadn't shown himself yet. The Doctor hoped that he wouldn't do so until the Master was out of thee room; there was no use in placing both of them in imminent danger.

The Master shook him, gripping the Time Lord's hair more tightly. This time, the Doctor couldn't hold back a soft whimper of pain, no matter how much he tried to keep himself from making a sound. He'd already been through too much to care what his captor thought now.

"You won't get out of this as easily as you've escaped me in the past, Doctor," he growled, all semblance of benevolence gone. "You and your lover will suffer for the trouble you've caused me. Remember, you two are only the puppets whose strings I pull. I'm the puppet master."

The Doctor didn't bother with a retort; he knew that the words had only been said to get some sort of a response out of him, and he wasn't going to give one. He was going to hold on to his shield of impassivity as long as he could, no matter what the cost.

The grip on his hair lessened; then the hand was gone, and the Master was reaching for the velvet robe he had shed when he'd climbed onto the bed behind his captive to take his pleasure. He shrugged into it, striding towards the door, looking back before he opened it to leave.

"I'm sure that your lover is somewhere around here, Doctor, just waiting to play the white knight and rescue you," he sneered, his gaze raking the Time Lord's naked body. "But he's going to find that it's not so easy for him to play the hero when he's going up against me."

With those words, he left, slamming the door behind him. The Doctor waited to hear the click of a lock sliding into place -- but he didn't. So the Master didn't think that Ianto would be able to find him -- or else he was leaving the door open as an enticement.

He wasn't bound, but he didn't have the strength to get to his feet and shuffle toward the door. Besides, he was naked -- there was no way that he was going to try to slip out of here and then search for the Tardis without his clothes! That was out of the question.

The Doctor lay back on the dirty blanket spread out on the floor, every fiber of his body aching. He hoped that Ianto found him soon; he could feel his lover's nearness, but he didn't know if it was safe for the other man to show himself openly yet. He would have to be patient.

He put a hand to his chest, his fingers closing around the pendant that lay against his skin, glowing softly and almost pulsing with a life of its own. Ianto was near; the bond that they shared, along with the glowing of the pendant, told him that they were within close proximity.

The Time Lord almost smiled at the thought; soon, he was sure, he would be with Ianto again, and his young lover would have formulated some kind of plan for their safe escape. Ianto was simply biding his time until it was safe for both of them to make their way to the Tardis.

The Master wasn't as good of a puppeteer as he might think, the Doctor told himself, a wry smile twisting his lips. He had been sadly mistaken if he thought that Ianto hadn't learned anything during their time together; he was sadly underestimating the Doctor's lover.

All he could do now was wait, and try to think positively, the Time Lord thought, closing his eyes but still keeping his senses alert. He only hoped that Ianto would find him before the Master came back for another round, and that they would be able to leave without a trace.

***