Hello ! This part is M rated too. Skip to the next part below the second horizontal line if you don't like. But I bet you're here for that, you perverts !
"Remember when I said these lovely guys and I came from the same species ?" The alien warrior said.
The Master remained silent and pretended he didn't understand.
He heard some sticky noise. Kylneth was bringing out their hidden genitals.*
No.
No !
NO !
Leave me alone ! Let me go !
He tried again to get out of the tentacles' firm hold. In vain. He was about to be violated a second time. And he could do absolutely nothing about it. He, the Master, was weak. Defenseless. Powerless. Worthless.
He was now a mere flesh sextoy to have fun with. His whole body had been stained, wrecked, ravaged, desecrated. His limbs were all sore and bloody. He couldn't bear it. He only wished this time it'd be quick and lethal.
"Don't worry, dear –or do it actually- I shall take, All. My. Time." Kylneth responded as if they too had heard the Master's thoughts.
No, stop. Please stop.
They slipped in. It wasn't as rough as the Mentulax but as gross.
Their appendage seemed like it wriggled by itself and had a never-ending length. It felt like it was seeking its way throughout the Time Lord's innards.
He was going to throw up. He was crying. He wanted to die; or at least faint. He felt so ashamed, so pathetic. Surely if the Doctor was here, he would laugh at him out loud until suffocation. Damn ! Why was he thinking about the Doctor again ? He was the least needed person at the moment !
"Are you thinking about your beloved one ?" Kylneth asked while they kept on going to and fro. "There's no one to rescue you, traitor. No one." They emphasized near the Master's ears. "Who would rescue you anyway ? Who would rescue such a despicable, worthless creature like you ?" They asked, thrusting harder.
The Master screamed again. He knew the answer, of course.
No one.
He believed hearing some whooshing before he passed out.
He woke up in a bed. A bed in a Tardis. Not his Tardis. He looked around him.
No. It can't be. It just can't be !
He looked at his hands and wrists. They had been bandaged and were almost healed. His bottom was still sore nevertheless.
He sighed.
Compassion's always been your weakness, hasn't it Doctor ? Someday, it will kill you. Not that I care anyway.
You saved me so you can personally mock me, didn't you ? What else would you do that for ?
He remembered all the times his Doctor could have saved him and just didn't. The Axons, Castrovalva, 13th century England, and many, too many, other times.
He cried again. This time, he didn't know why; or didn't want to know why. He fell back on his pillow. He tried to muffle his sobbing into it. Oh Rassilon, the Doctor mustn't see him like this. He mustn't !
As if Rassilon had –or hadn't- heard his prayer, the Doctor came in the room.
Blast it !
The Master glanced at him, just a bit. He was still sporting this golden and shimmering mane of his. And still the cute cricket outfit. Then his glittering brown eyes looked at him.
Crap !
He turned back as fast as he could. He just hoped the Doctor hadn't noticed it.
"Oh, you're awake aren't you ?"
* google "duck penis", no really, do it.
