What The Master Wants, NC-17, Round 1
Title: What The Master Wants.
Author: Becky_H
Pairing: Master/Jack
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers Utopia, TSoD, LotTL.
Warnings: Dub-Con.
Word Count: 650-ish
Betas: Matsujo9 and unfeathered
Summary: The Master can't have what he wants.
Author's Notes: Written for cybermanada's get_tw_laid prompt: Jack/Master, BDSM, sub!Jack.
Jack is a cheap whore.
He has no illusions. He sold himself for a hot shower and twenty minutes' peace for the Doctor.
The Doctor is somewhere in the back of his mind, horrified and appalled that Jack would do this. It feels a lot like 'Now that's Torchwood' and Jack's response feels a lot like 'But it's still a good plan'. Only this time there aren't any words and Jack isn’t backing down.
He's been in those chains so long and died so often that Jack isn’t sure he's going to be able to stand without them. But he's nothing if not stubborn and he doesn't fall until it's on his knees, hands tied, in front of the Master who, no matter what, will never really master Jack.
Maybe that's what this is really about, for him. No matter how many times he breaks Jack, Jack won't stay broken. Maybe the Doctor, deep down, gives a shit about Jack; the Master knows it and wants to exploit it.
Somehow.
Or maybe the Master is just a crazy son of a bitch and the fact that Jack is wrong is what makes him hard; he wants to fuck the paradox.
Jack doesn't know the Master's reasons; he doesn't care. He's had a shower for the first time in months, and if the water was too damned hot, Jack doesn't really care about that either. He's clean.
The Master's hands in his hair are rougher and colder than the Doctor's. They're pulling hard enough to really sting and make Jack's eyes water. He's not crying; it's just a physiological response. The cock in his mouth is cold too. It seems right to Jack, somehow, because it's more alien that way, and while the Doctor might be an alien, he's not alien. Not to Jack.
Jack doesn't bother trying to suck. He doesn't bother trying to fight his gag reflex or to swallow. The result is messy, but it's what the Master wants. Jack on his knees, drooling and choking, tears streaking down his face and fighting for air.
Whatever the Master wants.
Jack gasps for air when the Master pulls back and then gags at the rough thrust back into his mouth, angled deliberately against his throat instead of down it, angled deliberately to cut off his air. Jack curls his fingers into fists and his nails dig into his palms as he fights to keep his jaw relaxed.
Jack is released, over and over, to get just enough air to keep him from passing out but not enough to get rid of those black spots that are swimming at the edges of his vision. More than once the Master is a little slow letting him breathe. When that happens, the Master twists the fingers in Jack’s hair, Jack gasps and the Master's cock slips a little further down Jack's passive throat.
Whatever the Master wants.
When the Master comes it stings Jack's already raw and aching throat. He can't pull away but he flinches back before he can stop himself and there's a snarl from above him that sounds as angry as it does insane.
Then Jack realizes: he knows what the Master wants.
The Master steps back and lets Jack fall. Jack hits the ground hard. He can't catch himself and doesn't try. His cheek is pressed against the floor in a puddle of come and spit because his throat is too fucked up for swallowing to be worth it.
The Master doesn't want Jack broken. He doesn't want Jack's passive acceptance. He doesn't want anything he can take, or anything he can force. He wants Jack's submission.
Jack closes his eyes and starts to laugh. He hears the Master zipping his pants and his footsteps as he leaves. He's still laughing when he hears the door close and even when he's back in chains he can't stop grinning.
Because he wins.
Author: Becky_H
Pairing: Master/Jack
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers Utopia, TSoD, LotTL.
Warnings: Dub-Con.
Word Count: 650-ish
Betas: Matsujo9 and unfeathered
Summary: The Master can't have what he wants.
Author's Notes: Written for cybermanada's get_tw_laid prompt: Jack/Master, BDSM, sub!Jack.
Jack is a cheap whore.
He has no illusions. He sold himself for a hot shower and twenty minutes' peace for the Doctor.
The Doctor is somewhere in the back of his mind, horrified and appalled that Jack would do this. It feels a lot like 'Now that's Torchwood' and Jack's response feels a lot like 'But it's still a good plan'. Only this time there aren't any words and Jack isn’t backing down.
He's been in those chains so long and died so often that Jack isn’t sure he's going to be able to stand without them. But he's nothing if not stubborn and he doesn't fall until it's on his knees, hands tied, in front of the Master who, no matter what, will never really master Jack.
Maybe that's what this is really about, for him. No matter how many times he breaks Jack, Jack won't stay broken. Maybe the Doctor, deep down, gives a shit about Jack; the Master knows it and wants to exploit it.
Somehow.
Or maybe the Master is just a crazy son of a bitch and the fact that Jack is wrong is what makes him hard; he wants to fuck the paradox.
Jack doesn't know the Master's reasons; he doesn't care. He's had a shower for the first time in months, and if the water was too damned hot, Jack doesn't really care about that either. He's clean.
The Master's hands in his hair are rougher and colder than the Doctor's. They're pulling hard enough to really sting and make Jack's eyes water. He's not crying; it's just a physiological response. The cock in his mouth is cold too. It seems right to Jack, somehow, because it's more alien that way, and while the Doctor might be an alien, he's not alien. Not to Jack.
Jack doesn't bother trying to suck. He doesn't bother trying to fight his gag reflex or to swallow. The result is messy, but it's what the Master wants. Jack on his knees, drooling and choking, tears streaking down his face and fighting for air.
Whatever the Master wants.
Jack gasps for air when the Master pulls back and then gags at the rough thrust back into his mouth, angled deliberately against his throat instead of down it, angled deliberately to cut off his air. Jack curls his fingers into fists and his nails dig into his palms as he fights to keep his jaw relaxed.
Jack is released, over and over, to get just enough air to keep him from passing out but not enough to get rid of those black spots that are swimming at the edges of his vision. More than once the Master is a little slow letting him breathe. When that happens, the Master twists the fingers in Jack’s hair, Jack gasps and the Master's cock slips a little further down Jack's passive throat.
Whatever the Master wants.
When the Master comes it stings Jack's already raw and aching throat. He can't pull away but he flinches back before he can stop himself and there's a snarl from above him that sounds as angry as it does insane.
Then Jack realizes: he knows what the Master wants.
The Master steps back and lets Jack fall. Jack hits the ground hard. He can't catch himself and doesn't try. His cheek is pressed against the floor in a puddle of come and spit because his throat is too fucked up for swallowing to be worth it.
The Master doesn't want Jack broken. He doesn't want Jack's passive acceptance. He doesn't want anything he can take, or anything he can force. He wants Jack's submission.
Jack closes his eyes and starts to laugh. He hears the Master zipping his pants and his footsteps as he leaves. He's still laughing when he hears the door close and even when he's back in chains he can't stop grinning.
Because he wins.