A/N: You may not like this. The Doctor gets very dark. Read at your own risk.
He'd be lying if he said that their location was an accident, though that's what he did—lie. He didn't like it one bit, lying to them, because truly they were his friends. They were good, kind people who deserved more from him than a lie and an excuse and leaving them to fend for themselves in the shady marketplace, but he was not good people. He was not even decent people. He was a depraved Time Lord with an inkling for little blonde girls named Rose who looked at him with tenderness despite what he was.
Jack knew. The Doctor knew that he knew, and it only added to the sickness. He kept his lips in a tight line as he watched Jack nod and put his arm around Rose's shoulders, steer her toward the market, away from him. The Doctor sighed, coming to terms with things. Jack was protecting Rose for him so that he could go do what he needed. Jack wasn't telling Rose what he was doing, wasn't ratting him out. The twinge of pity in Jack's eye was almost enough to make march right back to the TARDIS. But he's not a good Time Lord, not a good man, and he turned and headed down the windy street.
"Oi! What are ya gonna do, Time Lord? Spank me?" Rose had shouted, playfully hitting him in the arm.
He knocked on the door three times and made his face as impassive as he could. The woman appraised him quickly, stepped back, let him enter. Herbs and spices and soot filled his nostrils, and he jammed his hands in his pockets and waited. A quick discussion, actual bills of money were handled. The Doctor made sure he had money, couldn't live with himself if he used the psychic paper or some bogus credit system for something like this. No, these people deserved the full payment for their services.
"Blonde?" She asked, counting the bills.
"Yeah." He could hardly speak, his shame like a rock in his throat.
"Maybe I will, Rose Tyler!" He had laughed, his eyes dark with hunger.
The woman gestured, and a pink and yellow human girl came out of the other room. Her lips were painted pink, her hair chemically yellow, her body sheathed in gauzy red fabric. The word cheap settled in his brain, but he pushed it away, turned his face to the woman in charge.
"Ha! You'd have to catch me!" She teased, and he had steadied his grip on the console.
"Age?" He could have asked the girl, but somehow it made more sense to speak about her, like she was an object he was purchasing, which she was.
"18. Clean. Okay?" He nodded and followed the girl up the stairs, his breath tasting stale and his hearts hammering as he went. His boots echoed on the floor, and he warred internally. This was fine. It would be consensual. It wouldn't harm anything with Rose. He'd feel better and not hurt her. It was still vile and wrong, but it wasn't a wrong against her, and that's about as much as he could give Rose.
The room was bathed in golden light, and the girl's skin looked sickly under the hue. She unfastened her little robe and stood before him, naked. His erection from earlier, at the suggestion of spanking her, was still evident. He couldn't get the damn things to go away anymore, he just remained in a state of frustrated arousal until he slunk off to his room. His body was an entity he couldn't control anymore, and being out of control was as close to dying as he thought he could stand.
The Doctor nodded, jutted his chin out, and the girl scurried over to him, began undressing him. And it felt okay. It felt okay, if he closed his eyes, to let someone take care of this for him. He tried to imagine it was Rose pulling his belt out, and that it was Rose's footsteps he heard moving. When he was nude, he opened his eyes and found himself reeling. Anger, lust, need. Anger.
"On your knees." He gestured toward the bed, and the girl scampered over, dropping to her hands and knees on the blankets. He stood behind her and let his eyes wander. The hips were too slender, not very womanly, and her shoulder blades jutted out just a bit. She had a little tattoo on her back, and he wondered what the little symbols meant to her. Had she been full of hope and joy the day she got them? Had she ever thought that a dirty old Time Lord would be looking at them while he inspected her naked behind? A shiver raced through his body as he contemplated how wrong it was. He didn't want this girl, didn't find her attractive in her own right, but she looked just enough like Rose to help him fantasize, help him do what he thought needed to be done.
Her sex was not wet, not even moist looking, and the thought angered him. Rose would be wet. Somehow, he just knew that. Knew that if he ever got lucky enough to feel like he could have Rose naked in a room with him, she would be wet. In fact, he'd make sure of it. But somehow he didn't want to make sure that this girl was moist. He reached out and stroked her there, halfway attempting to help her, feeling the smallest bit of pity and the largest bit of irritation. She didn't make noise, didn't move around, just waited. He dipped his finger inside of her, hoping to draw the moisture out, and she suddenly seemed to realize she was supposed to be participating. She bucked her hips backwards against his hand, but things were still...dry. Sighing, he decided to do what he actually came to do.
"I'm going to..." He couldn't even say it, but he needed her to know what she was getting into. What she had been bought for.
The girl turned her head and nodded at him, gave him permission without even knowing what it was. It was the kind of sadness he saw in himself, and he nearly bolted out of the room. How could he do this to someone as broken as himself? He should help this girl. The Doctor helped people, he didn't perpetuate their misery. He thought of his previous bodies, and how they would never have found themselves here. His other bodies would have loved Rose as a best mate and been content with that, would never have had such lewd ideas about her that they found themselves in a brothel with a broken girl.
Deep breaths. He needed this, though. Ashamed and disgusted and miserable, he still needed this. Closing his eyes to focus, he brought his hand up. He opened his eye as his palm connected with her flesh, and the red color that appeared was pleasing. He waited, though, curious how she would react. The girl stayed still, dropped her head a little, but did not act like it hurt. He raised his hand again and slapped the other cheek, a small grin lifting the corner of his mouth as he managed to hear a little yip from her.
The Doctor's erection begged attention, and he took it in his hand, stroking himself as he brought his hand up one final time, brandishing her across both cheeks. The Doctor felt himself slipping away, watching this happen, leaving himself in this moment of horror. He took himself in both hands then and rubbed. He could slip inside her, knew that was part of the payment, but she was so dry and so...not Rose. Still, he felt better. Felt tension pouring out of his body as he pumped himself, his hips leaning forward and his cock so close to those red cheeks.
"D'you want help, sir?" The girl turned her head a little, tried to be helpful, but the sight of her face revolted him. Caught him off guard. She was not Rose. Looked nothing like her. His pumping became angry, furious, and suddenly wanted he nothing more than to get this over with, be done, go find the real Rose.
"No. Come here." She turned and crawled to him, her angular face looking up at him, waiting, somehow knowing, and of course she knew, she did this every day. Every single day she did exactly this for scumbags like him. His fist made one final journey before he came, spilling on to her waiting mouth, happily accepting what he could not—that he had done this. He jerked away from her, didn't let her touch him, couldn't let her mouth actually come near him for fear he'd lash out and hurt the poor girl.
He didn't offer to help her clean up. He didn't offer to do anything really, but he tossed extra bills on the table as he redressed himself.
He needed to be better. Needed to try harder to control himself. The punishment hadn't done much good, and the prostitute only seeded his disgust with himself deeper, and even though he had no idea what the alternative should be, he looked for the pair in the marketplace with an optimistic attitude. His eyes roamed greedily over the crowds, looking for the woman who had started all of this for him, not that he held her responsible. No, it was his body, born of fire, that carried him to this dark and sickening place, she was merely the focus of his foul attentions. Finding them by a stand of fruit, the Doctor came up behind her, put his arm around her shoulder and grinned happily, faking it. Always faking it.
"Hey! Get those documents all straightened out, then?" She smiled widely at him, her innocence as evident as tongue between her teeth.
"Yep! What'd I miss?" He saw Jack raise his eyebrows, and decided to meet his eyes. Better be honest with someone, aye? Jack looked questioning, and the Doctor could only give him a half-smile, shame and guilt and honesty the only things he seemed to have.
A/N: As I mentioned, this is not our loving Doctor from my other fic. This is me exploring a different part of the character, one that I think a lot of us want to pretend isn't there.
You honor me with your reviews. And super duper double thanks to those of you who are return reviewers from Seducing the Doctor, I know you're taking a chance on this with me, and I love ya for it!