Title: Something Borrowed
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness/The Master
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: NC-17
Table: 5
Prompt: 82, Voyeur
Warning: Non-con.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Jack Harkness. Please do not sue.

***

Jack shook his head, trying to clear it. It felt as though a dozen knives were stabbing into his skull; no, make that at least a thousand knives. And they were all wielded by snickering little demons with red horns and pitchforks. Or was that just something he'd read in some long-ago book he'd found on his travels?

Whatever. It didn't really matter. What mattered was figuring out where he was -- which he couldn't do unless he opened his eyes and had a look around.

He couldn't move his hands -- apparently, they were chained above his head. He could tell that without even opening his eyes. Hmmmm. This wasn't off to a good start. But did he really want to open his eyes? Not really, but then, he didn't have much of a choice. He had to figure out how to get himself untied, find the Doctor, and get the hell out of .... Dodge. Here. Wherever they were.

The Doctor. What had happened to him? Where was he? That thought made Jack open his eyes, even though the pain that knifed through his head when he did made Jack want to squeeze them shut again. His vision was cloudy; he had to blink before the room around him swam into view.

No. He really shouldn't have looked. He should have kept his eyes closed; maybe then he'd have been able to deny the situation they were in, pretend that it didn't exist.

The Doctor was sprawled across a bed barely five feet away from where Jack was chained to the wall, his eyes on the immortal. He'd been stripped naked, spread-eagled, his wrists and ankles bound to the posts at the four corners of the bed, a black cloth gag covering his mouth. Jack swallowed hard, straining at his bonds even though he knew he couldn't break free.

The Master. Nobody else would have done this; nobody else would be twisted enough to have the Doctor displayed in front of him like this. Jack knew exactly what that deranged maniac was planning to do -- it was obvious, wasn't it? He'd hated Jack since the first time they'd met, knowing that he was the Doctor's chosen companion -- and lover.

He didn't need to be a genius to put two and two together -- and make seven. The Master was going to rape the Doctor -- and make him watch.

Judging from the look of fear in those dark eyes that were fixed on him, the Doctor knew it, too. Jack twisted his wrists in the cuffs, looking up at the sturdy chains fixed into hooks on the wall. There was no way he could free himself; that much was certain. No way that he could help the Doctor, or stop whatever the Master intended to do.

He couldn't watch this. He couldn't stand here helplessly and watch the Master violate the man he loved. He'd rather die than see somebody else take the Doctor -- especially the Master, who he'd hated with a black, virulent hatred from the first time they'd set eyes on each other. He couldn't say exactly why, but he hated everything about the other Gallifreyan. He'd kill the Master with his bare hands if he had the chance.

He'd said as much to the Doctor once, and the Time Lord had looked shocked, shaking his head and telling Jack in a subdued voice that he shouldn't think like that. When the immortal had asked him why, his words had been soft and thoughtful.

"Because thinking that way makes you no better than him, Jack. And you're far too good to even think about sinking to his level. Don't let yourself do that. Promise me you won't."

And he had. He'd promised, taking the Doctor's hands in his own and bringing them to his lips. He'd promised that he would never let himself fall into the trap of repaying violence with more violence, even though he'd thought in the back of his mind that he would have to renege on that promise one day.

Was this what his promise had brought him to? If he had to watch something like what he was sure he'd be forced to view whenever the Master showed up, then he wasn't going to be able to control his anger, or control the hatred he felt for the Master. He'd do everything in his power to send that bastard straight to hell, no matter what he'd promised the Doctor.

"Well, if this isn't a lovely scene. Quite cozy, isn't it? The three of us here all together. Almost like a happy little family."

The Master strolled into the room, grinning wolfishly at Jack. He raised a hand in a mock salute, snapping to attention before laughing and sitting down on the bed. "I thought you'd appreciate that, as you're a Captain. Or are you? Just what are you really, Captain Jack Harkness? Other than a bloody fool, of course, for not watching out more carefully for your lover's welfare."

With those words, he looked down at the Doctor, trailing one hand down the Time Lord's chest. The Doctor turned his face away, closing his eyes; the Master's hand moved to his chin, forcing the other man to look at him. "Don't think you're going to avoid me that easily, Doctor. You should know better than that by now, shouldn't you?"

He threw a glance towards Jack again before he looked back down at his captive. "He's been defying me for years, Captain. Centuries, even. I really should punish him for that, don't you think? I'm sure that's what you would do if he disobeyed you."

Jack ground his teeth, straining against the chains. If he had one wish at the moment, it would be to free himself from his bonds and launch himself across the room at the Master, taking the bastard down and plunging a sword -- or whatever sort of blade he could grab -- into that black heart over and over again until it ceased beating.

Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen. All he could do was struggle, knowing that it wasn't going to do a damn bit of good.

The Master smiled over at Jack, the look on his face one of eager anticipation. One hand moved to the Doctor's inner thigh, stroking long, thin fingers over the soft skin. Jack could see the shudder that went through the Time Lord's body, the way the Doctor winced away from the overly intimate touch. This definitely wasn't going to be easy to watch.

He'd seen something similar to this before -- one of the first times he'd met the Master. But the Doctor had been drugged then, his body responding physically but his mind far away. This time, the Doctor would know exactly what was happening; it wasn't something Jack wanted to witness. He could already imagine the broken, vulnerable look that would lurk in the Doctor's eyes when this was over, a look that would tear at his heart whenever he glimpsed it.

"You want me to watch because you can't handle sexing me, is that it?" It was the only thing he could think of to say that might divert the Master's attention away from the Doctor; the words poured out from sheer desperation. If he could somehow keep that monster from touching the Time Lord, maybe he could manage to buy them some time.

Time to do what? he asked himself. They were trapped, both of them. He already knew that he couldn't free himself, and the Doctor was hardly in a position to do anything. Still, he hated feeling so completely helpless, unable to do anything but wait for the inevitable.

"No, Captain." The Master's voice was more smug than ever, brimming with satisfaction. "I want you to watch because I want you to see me tear into the man you love. I want you to see him hurt. I want you to know that deep inside himself, he wants this -- he wants me. I want you to know that you'll never be able to give him what he craves."

"You fucker." Jack's voice was a low hiss, his voice trembling in his throat. He didn't care what he was saying; the Master's words had driven him past caution. "I'll find you, no matter where you go. I'll find you, and I'll fucking kill you. Anything you do to him, I'll make sure you pay for it a hundred times over. A million."

"Oh, you will, will you?" The Master's brows rose, his eyes flicking to the Doctor and then back to Jack. "Do you realise that may not be a very good thing to say when I have the Doctor under my control, Captain? You've just guaranteed that he's going to suffer a good deal more than what would have been necessary."

"No!" The word burst from Jack's lips, the color draining from his face. What had he done? He should have just kept his big mouth shut ....

"How do you think I should take him, Jack?" The Master's tone was conversational, his hungry eyes roving over the Doctor's nude body as he spoke. "Lubed? Dry? Should I let him come, or make sure that he can't? Should I play with his body first -- or just give him a good hard rogering up the arse? Hmmmm? What do you think?"

"Let him go. Take me," Jack whispered, twisting his wrists in the cuffs. "You don't need him, not when you've got an immortal you can play around with. You can do anything you want to me, and it won't kill me. His body will give out eventually, you know that. I'm the one you really want, right? So here I am. Do whatever you want with me, just leave him alone."

The Master threw back his head and guffawed, his laughter echoing off the walls that seemed to close in around them. The heat in the small room was stifling; Jack realized that he was sweating, dripping wet. The combination of the Master's laughter, the heat, the situation they were in -- it all made Jack feel as if he had a one-way ticket to hell.

"Oh, what pretty words, Captain! You'd say anything to spare the Doctor pain, wouldn't you? It's touching, it really is." He let one finger trail down the Doctor's chest, down to his belly, circling his navel, moving back up to tweak one small nipple. "But nonetheless, it won't stop me from making him scream. And cry. And bleed. And whatever else I choose."

He glanced towards Jack again, brows raised in a question. "So, I take it that you don't have a preference as to what I do to him? That's good, really, because I have my own ideas." So saying, he reached into the pocket of his trousers, seeming to fish for something before bringing a gold ring out and holding it up in the dim light.

"I was serious about not letting him come, you know," he said, flashing a grin at Jack before turning his attention to the Doctor. "But he has to be erect before this will do any good, doesn't he? I think I should work on that, and go from there, wouldn't you agree?"

Jack had to bite his tongue to force words back; the last thing he wanted to do was irritate the Master now, when he had the Doctor's cock in his hand. Those fingers were wrapped around the Time Lord's penis, stroking slowly up and down, his attention seemingly focused on what he was doing to the exclusion of anything else.

The Doctor whimpered behind his gag, his eyes moving to Jack's face, their gazes locking. Jack didn't want to watch this, didn't want to have to cope with the sight of the Master's hands on the man he loved. He didn't want to think of how the Doctor must be feeling -- he was only being forced to watch, he told himself. The Doctor was having to endure being violated, being used by someone he feared and hated.

"There, I think that will do very nicely," the Master said after a few moments of stroking the Doctor to hardness. He slipped the cock ring onto the Time Lord's erection, fitting it snugly over his balls and around the base of his penis. Jack winced; he'd worn a cock ring before, but that had been his choice; it hadn't been forced on him.

"I suppose I should use lube, too -- too much blood would be so messy to clean up," the Master mused, tossing another glance towards Jack and reaching for the small table by the bed. Jack frowned at the sight of the object he'd picked up; it looked like .... like a syringe without a needle on the end, just a tube with a rounded end filled with a thick substance.

Jack had to squint a little; was that tube filled with .... lube? He yanked against the cuffs again when the Master sat back down on the bed beside the Doctor, moving a hand between the Time Lord's legs and spreading his cheeks. He held up the syringe, depressing the plunger slightly and looking down at the Doctor with a smile.

"Much easier for me than messing about with lubricant in a bottle, don't you think, Doctor?" he inquired conversationally, inserting the tip of the syringe into the Doctor's ass and pushing it in deeper, twisting it slightly as he did so. The Time Lord whimpered again, his hips arching up, his head turning from side to side.

The Master's thumb pressed down on the plunger, at the same time that the Doctor's eyes widened in shock. He cried out behind the gag, his body arching upwards again; Jack wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he had a good idea of what had just happened.

His suspicions were confirmed a moment later when the Master withdrew the syringe from the Doctor's ass; whatever had been in it wasn't there now. "There we are, Doctor. I know the lube is rather cold, but it's much easier for me to prepare you this way than to worry with making a mess. And at least this way, I know that you're well-lubricated. I wouldn't want to tear you too badly -- well, I would, but I'll refrain from it this time."

The Doctor turned his face away, refusing to look up at the man above him. The Master laughed, shaking his head and standing up, his hands going to his belt and quickly undoing it, then pulling down the zipper of his trousers. Jack's hands clenched in the cuffs again; he wanted to close his eyes, look away, not be a witness to what he knew was about to happen.

But he couldn't make himself look away. It was like a train wreck; he had to watch. There was a kind of gruesome fascination about the scene playing out in front of his eyes, and he loathed himself for not being able to stop it.

The Master glanced over his shoulder at Jack as he swung one leg over the Doctor, straddling the Time Lord and slipping both hands under his ass to lift his body slightly. "Don't close your eyes, Captain," he said, his voice menacing, deceptively soft. "I want you to see this -- I want you to witness everything I do to your lover. You should take notes, Captain. He may not seem to enjoy it -- but he does. Oh, he does, even though he'll never admit it."

The Doctor's face was still turned to the side, away from Jack; the Master reached up to grasp his chin, forcing the Time Lord to look at him. Jack could see the tears glistening on the Doctor's cheeks, the defeated look on his face. He didn't want to see, didn't want to acknowledge that look of helplessness. But he'd have to. He had no choice.

"Watch carefully, Captain," the Master breathed, his eyes locked with the Doctor's. "Maybe you'll learn a thing or two about pleasuring a Time Lord."

With those words, he thrust his hips forward; the Doctor's muffled scream filled the small room, the sound making the short hairs on the back of Jack's neck stand up. That wasn't a sound of pleasure; the Master hadn't bothered to stretch and prepare the Doctor for what he was doing, so of course it hurt. Jack wanted to scream at him to stop, but his voice was frozen in his throat. And it wouldn't have done any good, anyway.

He wanted to look away, or better yet, pass out and not be conscious of what was going on. But he wasn't going to be granted that kind of oblivion. Neither was the Doctor -- and the other man needed it more. He cried out with each thrust of the Master's hips, each sound seeming to rip into Jack's soul and tear a piece of it away in a jagged strip.

"No .... please .... stop." Jack could hear himself pleading with the Master, begging; it was probably just what the bastard wanted, he thought dazedly. His voice seemed to come from a long way away, almost as if it didn't belong to him, as if someone else was speaking.

"Why should I do that?" the Master panted, thrusting hard into the Doctor again, eliciting another stifled cry from the man beneath him. "I'm rather enjoying this -- especially knowing that he can't come. And knowing that you're watching every second of his violation, Captain. Knowing that it must be tearing you apart to see your lover in pain."

Jack wanted to scream, sob, plead, anything to make the Master stop. But he knew that nothing he did or said would have an effect; the Master wouldn't stop until he was ready, until he felt that he'd done enough damage, at least for the time being. He had no choice but to wait for this to end. He could only hope that it would end soon.

Another thrust, and another -- each one looking to Jack as though it was harder and deeper than the last. The Master had reached down to pull the cloth gag away from his victim's mouth; the Doctor's agonized screams filled Jack's ears, making him wish that he could press his hands to his head, shut out the sound of the Time Lord's suffering.

The Master gulped in air, his hands tightening on the Doctor's thighs as he thrust into the other man one last time; his hips flexed, once, then twice, a guttural growl coming from his throat. From the look on the Doctor's face, Jack surmised that the Master had just climaxed -- and hopefully, this would be over and he'd leave the two of them alone.

His hands clenched in the cuffs again, his anxious gaze fixed on the Doctor's face. The Time Lord looked dazed, but not so much that he wouldn't be able to follow Jack out of here. If he had to carry the Doctor, then he would. He'd done it before, several times, even though he'd never been this weakened when he'd had to do it. But he'd find a way if he had to.

Of course, the problem would be freeing himself and getting them both out of here and back to the Tardis. That was going to pose something of a problem. A big one.

The Master raised himself off the Doctor's body, swinging his legs back over the side of the bed and standing up. He stretched himself out, letting out a contented sigh, grinning at Jack. The immortal scowled, wishing that he could take a swing at the Master, wanting nothing so much as to be able to wipe that smug smile off his face.

The other Time Lord stooped to pick up his trousers, regarding Jack as he did so. Stepping close to the bound man, he leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "I do believe he's still in need, Captain. And as I'm feeling rather generous today, I think I'll let you give him what he wants. I'll even give the two of you a bit of privacy to do it."

Jack's surprise must have registered in his face; the Master laughed, the sound harsh and grating. The next words were whispered in an even lower voice, as though to keep them from reaching the Doctor's ears. "He enjoyed that, Captain. Whatever he tells you, I can assure you that he did. I hope you learned something about how he wants to be treated. Remember it well; you may find that it comes in handy if you need to keep him in line."

Jack kept silent, staring at the Master but not indicating that he'd heard the words. He knew that if he did, he'd say something that he might regret -- something that might make the Master turn back towards the Doctor. The Time Lord had suffered enough at this man's hands; Jack just wanted him to get out of there so that he could hopefully free himself and make sure that the Doctor was all right. Or as all right as he could be after being violated by a maniac.

Reaching into the pocket of his trousers, the Master pulled out a key, inserting it into the lock on the cuff around Jack's right wrist. He could feel it loosen slightly; it would only take a few moments to pull himself free. But he didn't dare; not when he was so weak and the Doctor was still bound and helpless.

"We'll meet again, Captain," the Master murmured, his gaze boring into Jack's. "As long as you're with him, you can't help but see me. Because, you see, no matter what you may think, he belongs to me. He always has, and he always will. You're only temporary. I'm forever. Remember that, Jack. For you, he's only something borrowed."

And with that, he strode towards the door, turning once to throw a glance back at the Doctor.

"You got away lightly this time, Doctor," he said, his eyes sweeping over the Doctor's naked body, still stretched taut between the bedposts. "But I'm sure that your lover will take care of you. Perhaps he can even manage to satisfy you until we meet again. But don't count on it."

The Doctor turned his face aside, refusing to acknowledge the Master's words. With a shrug, the other Time Lord turned, saluting Jack and grinning at him before he slammed the door. Jack waited for the sound of a key being turned in a lock, but there wasn't one. Was it possible that the Master was just going to .... let them go?

He hoped so. He really hoped so. He wasn't going to question whatever motives the Master had; he was just going to untie the Doctor, find something to wrap around him, and get him back to the Tardis. Then he was going to get them the hell out of there -- and he'd figure out what else to do as they went along.

Jack yanked determinedly at the cuffs, feeling them loosen with each movement. With the third strong pull of his wrists downwards, they snapped free, and he almost fell to his knees, managing to catch himself before he hit the ground. Straightening up, he headed for the bed, sitting down on wobbly legs and reaching for the rough ropes binding the Doctor's wrists.

He didn't want to look at the dark bruises marring the Time Lord's porcelain skin, the marks that the Master had left on his body. They'd fade within a few hours, Jack knew; but the scars that the Doctor carried inwardly would be far deeper, and far more long-lasting. Those would take considerably longer to fade away -- if they ever did.

The Doctor didn't move when Jack freed his hands, nor when the immortal loosened the ropes around his ankles. He wanted to pull the Time Lord into his lap, hold the Doctor and rock him back and forth and assure him that everything would be all right. But he couldn't give that reassurance, not when he didn't know himself how it would all turn out.

And there was one thing keeping him from sweeping the Doctor into his arms. The Time Lord's very obvious erection.

Jack hesitated, torn between wanting to do something to bring the Doctor some relief and not not being sure if he should even touch the other man. The Doctor whimpered softly, finally speaking, his words a breathless, pained whisper. Jack had to lean close to him to be able to hear the barely audible words.

Jack waited, taking the Doctor's hands into his own, his eyes locked on the Doctor's face. "I'll do whatever you need, Doctor. Just tell me what I can do."

He closed his eyes, praying that he could live up to those words. What if the Doctor wanted him to do something impossible? He didn't think that the Time Lord would want him to do anything he couldn't accomplish, but there was no telling. Whatever he had to do, he'd at least try. He had to. He couldn't let the Doctor down.

"Jack, please ...." The Time Lord gulped in air, ran the tip of his tongue over his lips. ".... Help me."

***

Next story in series - Safe Haven