For what seemed like the hundredth time Jack tried to ease his cramped legs only to be forcefully reminded that relief was not to be his.
Had it been days? Weeks? Months? How long had he been sat in this dark cell, blindfolded, completely naked and bound in a kneeling position? The rope was tied to his ankles, his wrists and then looped around his neck. The whole rig was somehow attached to the wall behind him. Any movement caused the bounds to tighten at his throat, it was not quite choking him, yet, but getting there fast.
He half considered letting himself die and then maybe his captors would think him permanently dead and untie him. But then again, he corrected himself, they were already wise to this little quirk. That last thought made him smile despite the discomfort.
"If you could call immortality a quirk!" he laughed, unaware he had spoken aloud until the sound of his voice surprised him. It sounded hoarse and unnatural to his ears.
Once a day someone entered his cell, feeding him, giving him water and cleaned him with a rough cloth dipped in some sort of stinging antiseptic. His skin burned for hours afterwords but at least he smelled better for a bit.
Jack's knees ached, he so wanted to unlock them, take the weight off of them. He made himself a promise to talk to his visitor when he or she returned and try to reason with them once again. He didn't expect to talk his way to freedom, just a position change would work for now!
As if on cue he heard the door open, "right on time!" he laughed.
The hands held a water bottle to his lips, knowing that if he refused to drink now it would not be offered again Jack drained the liquid before attempting to speak again. The water felt cool and soothing to his parched throat, giving him a boost of confidence.
"Listen, I know this is supposed to be just a bit uncomfortable..." he started, only to be interrupted by the first spoonful of tasteless gruel that was his meal for the day being thrust into his mouth.
Once the last morsel was gone he heard the other person set the plate down and swish the cloth in the cleaning solution, so he tried again, "I was just hoping we could go for a change of scenery so to speak," he forced a lightness to his voice that he didn't feel, "I get the whole bondage thing, really I do, can be fun at times, but I am losing feeling in my feet."
There was no reply, Jack strained to hear a change in the other's breathing or any sign that this person heard him at all, making him wonder if his gaolers had employed someone who was deaf.
The rough cloth started on his back as was the usual pattern, but did Jack feel a bit more care and tenderness in the touch? The familiar rasp and sting was somehow less intense, as if not as much pressure was being applied. This person's touch felt more gentle.
"I know you're probably not in a position to make decisions, I'm guessing you're a prisoner like me," Jack pressed on, keeping his voice jovial, "but if you could pass on my request, I'd really appreciate it!"
The cloth moved to his chest, but stopped the scrubbing for a minute. Jack could hear the person inhale sharply as if wanting to say something to him. He ached to hear the sound of someone else's voice, he held his breath in anticipation, but the moment was lost. The silence was broken only by the sound of the cloth scraping against his arms.
After he had been thoroughly washed he heard his visitor gather up the empty dish and the sound of him or her getting up to leave.
"Wait!" Jack called out, "please say something, I am tired of my own voice, and it would be really nice to hear someone else's for once!"
The door opened and closed leaving Jack alone again. He fought the tears of frustration as he heard the lock click into place.
The Master was waiting outside the door as figure emerged from the cell, "you do that so well, maybe instead of calling you the Doctor, we should call you the Nurse!" at that he laughed and snapped the lead on the collar around the Doctor's neck.
"Come on now pet," he yanked the leash, "it's time for my bath now!"