AN: hey guys! This is my first ever fic of this nature, so please constructive criticism/positive comments are greatly appreciated. Also, no I do not support this pairing, but after reading the poem "Leda and the Swan" By William Butler Yeats, these are the two I imagined in the situation. I suppose it's something of a song fic (poetry in italics of course), so without further stalling, please, read, enjoy and tell me what you think
Harkness and the Swan
He lifted his heavy head, body shuddering with the exhaustion of such a task. His arms were chained up, connecting him to the ceiling of his cell. How long it had been he had no idea; he'd given up attempting to count the days, what felt like, years ago.
He was the Master's play thing, the man using Jack's immortality as a source of entertaining amusement, though he'd recently been moved to a smaller room, one wall completely made of reflective glass; essentially, he was in a mirrored room. He felt disgusted, looking at himself, chained up and broken like a captain who had no more use.
He smiled bitterly, trying to think of good times he'd had in the past. Bittersweet memories of nights in bed with Ianto; fingers touching, stroking, caressing; mouths and tongue together, clashing, entwined; sweet harmonious moans sung pleasure and praise as they joined together as one...
Jack felt his body shudder as a single tear rolled down his cheek at the thoughts of his young welsh lover. He missed him, more than he thought he would, not that he would probably ever admit to himself or anyone else. Caught up in his own grief and emotion, he barely heard the door behind him open, nor did he dare look up, in fear of seeing his broken body, to see someone approach him from behind.
With no warning at all, Jack felt his body drop, the chains above him releasing his scarred wrists from their restraints. He hit the floor with a dull thud, choking at the harsh brute contact he made with the floor.
A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
Above the staggering girl,
He crawled over to the mirror, where he tried to push himself up, swaying and coughing, chest burning in pain. He pulled himself up, fingers sliding against the mirror for grip, leaning on it for support, cooling the burning pain in his chest. His breathing was ragged; breath hitching as the pain flared with every breath.
A hand on his shoulder, span him to face away from the mirror. The fiery eyes of The Master, Harold Saxon, pierced his soul, making him feel weak, useless, and self pity.
"Hello captain." The words stung Jack, the tone full of mockery, sounding almost sadistic. Jack looked away, trying not to show any sort of emotion the Master could use against him, only to have his face gripped and torn back to face the man. "Don't look away from me." He spat, "I'm only here to see how my favourite play thing is." Jack kept an even glare, but said nothing. The Master sneered, laughter caught in his throat at how Jack was trying to keep himself in control. The man slid forward, pushing Jack's legs apart and straddling over the fallen captain.
her thighs caressed
By the dark webs,
Jack growled low in his throat, trying to push the man back, but failed.
A hand connected with his cheek, causing his head to slam into the mirror behind him. He let out a cry of pain, from the sting of the slap, and the pain at the back of his head. The Master glared, "I am your Master, and you do as I tell you to now. You're no longer a Captain," the words stung as they sank into Jack's very being, ""you're nothing but my toy now, and you will do as I tell you."
Jack bit back any form of retort, as the Master rubbed his groin upon Jack's.
"Do you always get pleasure out of hurting others?" Jack kept his voice low, threatening.
"No, only you, Jack." A hand gently caressed the Captain's dirt covered cheek. Jack winced, trying to block out the feel of silky smooth skin against his skin. He saw the Master smirk, and knew what was on the man's mind almost instantly.
"Don't you have better things to do, you know, your wife?" Jack snarled. The Master laughed in his throat, inching closer to Jack's face, his erection digging into Jack's groin, forcing the Captain to block out any previous thoughts of him and Ianto.
"Now why would I use her when I have a perfectly beautiful toy like you waiting for me to come and fuck?"
He leaned forward, catching Jack's lips and forcing him into a tongue locking kiss, hands trailing down the Captain's chest and stomach, greedily pushing off his shirt. Jack was too weak to fight back against the onslaught of strokes and caresses the Master laid upon his body.
her nape caught in his bill,
He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.
The Master's mouth moved from his own, trailing nibbles and licks down Jack's jaw line, to his collar bone, his hips pushing and grinding against Jack's now aroused groin. The light hot breath of the Master lay upon Jack's neck, as he whispered into his ear, "I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to mark you as my own, and imprint my voice, my fuck, into your body forever."
His hands slid around to Jack's back, pulling him as close as he could, breath shuddering in anticipation. Jack tried hard to resist moaning; it felt so wrong but so right. The Master pulled him up, standing Jack up and supporting him, pushing his body into Jack's, almost in desperation, as he attacked the captain viciously with hurtful kisses, his crotch pressed hard against Jack's, encouraging the growth of Jack's own erect cock.
He smiled with pleasure, seeing Jack squirm in discomfort, to know the captain was conflicted between his dignity, and his own self pleasure. The Master removed one of his hands from supporting the captain, sliding it down his navel until he met the captain's own erection. Jack looked at him, wide eyed and fearful.
"It hurts, doesn't it?" The Master asked, not only referring to Jack's physical discomfort. He nodded, almost whimpering in reply.
"I can make it all go away." His silky voice sung to Jack, fingers stroking, encouraging Jack to buck eagerly into his touch. Jack shuddered at the contact, holding back a moan of guilty pleasure as the fingers of the Master rubbed, stroking delicately, massaging in all the right places. His fingers gripped the surface of the mirror, trying to keep himself stood up, teetering on the edge of his sanity. He couldn't physically refuse the Master, for fear of what may happen to him, but he'd felt so lost, so alone, missing his team, missing Ianto, missing-
How can those terrified vague fingers push
The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
His hand gripped the Master's wrist. No, he couldn't let this happen. He had to keep his sanity, had to salvage the last of himself and preserve it. The Master shot him a death glare, grip tightening, hurting Jack.
"Stop...please..." Jack choked, facing the man who he knew would, eventually, come to rape him.
"Why? Why should I stop? I know you're alone Jack," the Master's voice mocked, "I can see it, when you're in your cell alone, crying out for someone to touch you," he stroked up his length, starting to jerk him off, making Jack struggle against him. "Why are you, denying me? Don't you want the attention? The feel of someone on top of you, inside you, giving you the time of your life?" he finished his sentence, hissing, as Jack let out a moan, coming over the Master's hand. His own hand, still around the Master's wrist, was shaking violently, out of fear, shame, disgust at the pleasure he felt.
The Master let him slide down the mirror; he was broken, a lost man. The maser was soon crouched in front of him, pulling him close to him, holding him delicately, as i he really cared. Jack closed his eyes, whimpering, as the Master cooed him, stroking his sweaty hair, listening to the two hearts of the time lord beat.
The sound of the drums.
And how can body, laid in that white rush,
But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?
Jack lay there panting, feeling the Master move. He repositioned himself so he could whisper to Jack.
"I gave you the pleasure you wanted." Jack felt his breath hitch, trying not to let himself cry. His body shuddered.
"I'm going to fuck you, and you will enjoy it."
Jack let out a muffled cry. He knew the Master was evil, but for him to resort to rape for his source of pleasure?
"You're a sick bastard." Jack growled. The Master pushed him back, his head slamming back against the mirror, causing more pain. The captain let out a cry of pain, his hands going to grab the back of his head, intercepted by those of the Master.
"How dare you." He seethed. Jack took in a huge breath of air, preparing himself.
"I was going to do this for the both of us, for you and me to enjoy," Jack highly doubted, "but now, why should I care about some broken dog who doesn't appreciate what he's given?"
Gripping Jack's wrists and pulling them above his head, the Master flipped him over to face the mirror. Jack felt his face press against the cold glass, being pushed further by the Master's hand on the back of his skull, where he had hit his head. He gritted his teeth, grinding them together painfully.
He felt hands around his front, stripping him of his trousers, and then underwear, exposing him.
"How beautiful..." the Master traced a and around Jack's cock, and up his torso, trailing over his shoulder and down his back, and finally stroking between his ass cheeks. Jack shivered at the touch, anticipation shuddering through his body.
"All of you...you belong to me." Jack could just about look up, to see his dominator smirking back at him.
It was then he felt the Master stick one finger in. Jack tensed up, arching his back at the sudden contact, the pleasure that burst through his body, as he tried desperately not to scream.
"You like that, don't you?" The Master made Jack nod, forcing the movement of his head. A second finger entered Jack, making his back arch more, Jack biting into his lip, making it bleed.
"Why so tense my darling?" The Master leaned forward onto Jack, pushing them both against the wall. Jack's mouth hung open, panting. The Captain felt his body being peeled off of the mirror, his arms being guided to brace himself against the wall; his fingers pushed against the glass, smearing sweaty fingerprints over the surface. The hands of his attacker slid down delicately, finding their way to his semi-erect shaft, and began to stroke and tease the Captain. At the same time, he pushed his hips into the man, his cock entering his ass, hard. Jack screamed with pleasure, mixed with fear and pain, as he heard the Master moan, and laugh.
"Oh you have no idea how many nights I have waited to fuck you Jack." He told his prisoner, as he pumped into him, the hand wrapped around Jack's now hard member working in rhythm with his hips. His free hand trailed over Jack's body, gently rubbing his nipples, as his mouth licked and nibbled, hard, between Jack's shoulders.
Jack was being attacked on all fronts, and he dared to say he was enjoying it. It was true. He was alone. He needed this. Even if it wasn't love, even if it was nothing, it was pleasure, and he needed what he was being given.
"Tell me you want me." The Master commanded.
"I...I want you."
His speed increased.
"Tell me you need me"
"I need you..." he moaned quietly.
"Louder." The Master panted
"I need you!"
Pant, pant, pant.
"You need me what?"
"...Master..."
Push, push, push.
"Say my name again!"
"Master!"
Voices raised, moaning increasing.
"Do you want me?"
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Master...yes Master!"
Both of them, almost at their limit, both holding out, shuddering under the strain.
"Fuck me!"
"Fuck me?"
"Fuck me, please...Master!"
Both men came, the Master screaming loudly, Jack moaned deeply, his member going limp in the others embrace.
He slid down the glass, as the Master pulled out, panting, stumbling backwards.
A shudder in the loins engenders there
The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
And Agamemnon dead.
Being so caught up,
So Mastered by the brute blood of the air,
Jack felt the world spin as he fell to the floor. He had no energy left, to stand, so sit. He curled up, next to the mirror, feeling ashamed, sickened at the sight of his own face. He's lost the fight, he'd lost himself in that moment of pleasure he had not felt for such a long time.
He'd forgotten himself, torchwood, Ianto, everything that meant something to him; he'd traded it all for a cheap fucking from a sadistic tyrant.
He heard the shuffle of clothes, the grunting of annoyance, and footsteps come towards him. He felt his head being lifted, to look up into the light that was above him, from the position he was laid in, to look up at the man, the one who caused so much pain and misery just by existing. He felt soft, gentle lips press to his own, but resist him, he could not.
He did not see nor hear the gun, but merely felt the cold metal barrel against his forehead, before the deafening scream of a fired bullet cracked through his skull, killing him instantly.
Did she put on his knowledge with his power
Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?
He would soon wake up, finding himself chained up where he had been before his nightmare. Of course, he would never forget what had happened on that day, during the time known as, the year that never was.
But for him, it was real, it always would be, as long as eternity.