To SilentEyedKat Good luck with your finals hope you did well.

And again Thanks for taking the time to review , I know how precious time is.

Warnings: Abuse, Violence , Attempted Suicide, Torture, Blood… Hetero (brief)(Lucy/The Master)

Chapter 13.

The Masters day had started off with such promise. He'd woken in the early hours of the morning to feel his beautiful, lush wife's (if he felt kind enough to call her that) lips wrapped around him being able to take his early morning frustrations out on her was always a pleasure, the hot tight mouth and those dangerously sharp nails of hers had him panting out his pleasure as he finally released himself into her. But it all went downhill after that.

For starters she had expected some sort of pleasure in return which the Master had been disinclined to return, which had led to a screaming match he had never expected to have from her, which resulted in a fair amount of smacking, crying and Lucy running off to hide somewhere. Which wouldn't have been a problem if it hadn't been for the fact that someone had obviously been whispering things in her ear to get such a display out of her?

Which had led to him leaving his love nest before sunrise to go and find Sherlock for an explanation as it could only have been him? (Lucy having been banned from going anywhere near the Doctor) Only to find that he had locked himself into the lab to work on a volatile gas in the air chamber, which had left him incommunicado. Leaving him with a sleeping Dr. Watson in his chair and Sherlock paying no attention to him, as if he weren't important.

The Master had frowned at him through the airtight sealed glass as Sherlock waved his fingers in the air informing him that whatever trivial matter he had would have to wait, he was on the brink of a breakthrough, and that the Masters complaint was, clearly not as important.

The Master already in a bad mood felt like smashing the glass and then Sherlock's face, the drums beating wildly within his head, feeling so loud that they echoed through the room to him. He was just about to do that when he heard the slightest shuffling noise from behind him, finding John Watson staring at him as if identifying that he was in exactly the wrong place at the wrong time.

The master's face went from outraged to a big sharp toothy grin in the space of a blink; he slowly began to stalk towards John as if relishing the hunt. John tried to jump up to escape, only to find himself pinned, The Master grabbing hold of each of his shoulders, pulling him from his chair and tossing him across the room and against the glass, creating enough of a noise to finally gain Sherlock's attention.

Sherlock stopped what he was doing turned around his eyes not quite wide but clearly shocked. The master grabbed hold of John again punching him sharply across the face, before kicking him in the shoulder causing enough pain to release a real scream from him. Sherlock tried not to flinch, his face growing grey betraying his feelings even if his face remained imperious to what was happening.

The master grinned in satisfaction beating his fist and feet against John, who had curled up but couldn't prevent the beating, blood starting to fly with every kick and punch until the Master could feel the drums begin to quieten, grabbing the somehow still conscious John by his injured shoulder dragging him over to the glass wall where Sherlock had yet to have moved his face still impassive but entire body tight and angry, face dark, the Master swiped his hand across Johns face before writing a message on the glass for Sherlock;

"LEAVE LUCY ALONE AND I WILL LEAVE YOUR DOCTOR ALONE"

Sherlock finally grimaced. The master thought that he had won. Until he watched Sherlock pick up a bottle of sulphuric acid and a bottle of cyanide dropping both on the floor with a small tight spiteful smirk on his face.

The master cursed unbreakable glass, pulling out his screwdriver diving for the thankfully unlocked door clearing the room of the poisonous gas produced by the combination hoping that Sherlock's time lord genes would help him combat cyanide intake. Forcefully plunging the cyanide antidote into Sherlock's neck watching him take a few spluttering breaths before passing out alive.

Both Sherlock and John had been placed into the infirmary under guard protection within minutes. The Master planning on going to find somewhere to rest his nerves when he had received news that Martha had been spotted in Japan and they were in the process of tracking her down. The next piece of news however did not please him.

Mycroft and Lestrade had left the complex without regards to safety and were unescorted. The Master at first hadn't minded monitoring both the Martha situation as well as the Mycroft situation from afar for the rest of the day.

However it became apparent toward the end of it that his day was going from bad to worse . After the rather amusing Toclafane incident several things became apparent. One was that Martha was definitely in Japan, and the other was that someone had put up signal blockers throughout the town and that just after meeting the Toclafane Mycroft and Lestrade had disappeared off his radar all together, the Toclafane also out of communication.

All hell would break loose he swore. The Master marched to the deck of the valiant finding the doctor in his tent pulling the old man from his tent viciously throwing him by his lapels across the room before swooping over him hovering nose to nose with him.

"Where is Martha Doctor" he hissed spraying the Doctor in spittle looking far more insane than normal, the look of a man slowly losing control.

The Doctor stared up at him eyes tired and blank staring ahead face blank as always the Master finally growling pushing off of him and storming out from the deck.

It was heading onto sun down when it became apparent that Martha had escaped, Sherlock had recovered but was now in a healing coma, in all his bandage and wrap refused to cooperate even on threat of pain of Death and was not only sticking by Sherlock's side but guarding him with the ferocity of a mother tiger.

Mycroft and Lestrade were still nowhere to be seen. He'd been fighting the urge to go down to earth himself, but it was so clearly a trap that he couldn't allow himself that pleasure. He had to keep his eyes on the radar and wait for any sign of Mycroft or even Lestrade and get them back immediately, or he may be forced to start making announcements for the impending destruction of 1000 people an hour until Mycroft turned himself in.

For all he knew Mycroft was with Martha at this very moment plotting against him.

The moment the Master had seen Mycroft appear on his radar he wasted not a moment, quickly reaching for his laser screwdriver he summoned him to his rooms, a knot he had felt in his chest that he hadn't realized he'd being holding was instantly released. He would deal with Lestrade later but for now the only thing that mattered was Mycroft Holmes.

He had sent Mycroft to his rooms as it was one place that even the great Iceman felt truly lost unto the world. And it was the one place that the master had full control of him, even on the Valiant.

The Master had arrived to find the Iceman sitting on a chair by the fire a glass of finest scotch beside him looking deeply into the fireplace as if throwing himself into it would somehow be his salvation. The Master not for the first time wondered if he hadn't pushed them too hard, judging by Sherlock's actions earlier that day, it was a distinct possibility.

Mycroft seemed to notice that the Master had arrived and stood up as if almost to attention, ignoring the scotch while impassively looking at the Master for some clues as to his mood. The Master thinking of a teenage boy knowing he has done something wrong but determined to take it like a man.

After the long day of worrying and anger and frustration, the Master felt a delicious thought brewing within his, he was old enough to be this man's father, and perhaps it was indeed time to use this to his advantage. Not wanting another suicide attempt in one day. Both Holmes boys were on edge as it was it seemed.

"Did your mother ever take another man？"

"Yes master, when it became apparent that the Doctor wouldn`t be returning she…dated？"

"and Why would you say that is？"

"She was of the belief that Sherlock and I, needed a male role model in our life... After Sherlock started Acting out"

"Did any of, them ever touch you" asked the master suggestively, causing Mycroft to pull a face.

"Do you have to be so crass, no they did not"

"But I imagine that they felt the need to keep you in line, possibly punish you for being such a posh little tosser?" Mycroft frowned starting to understand where this was going wondering and knowing that lying wouldn't work.

"Only one of her boyfriends did, Sherlock had informed him that he knew that he was cheating on mother, all of 5 years old, of course I knew far more than that, like with whom, being the scullery maid, where, being the pantry and when being before having a dinner with us" Mycroft stopped a moment to see if he should continue, and so he did.

"Sherlock being Sherlock didn't understand why the man was angry, demanding he keep it to himself and tried to smack him. Of course I wouldn't allow it, informing him if he raised a hand to him there would be dire consequences for both he and the maid... "Mycroft stopped knowing that this was what the Master had been for.

"He lost his temper, placing me over a nearby chair and took his belt to me, demanding both Sherlock and I remain silent, he had too much of a good thing going. Only a few smacks mind you, before he reigned in his temper…"

"We of course took great pleasure in revealing the scoundrel to mummy, Sherlock looked positively luminescing with pleasure as the man was forcibly removed by our butler... That was the last man until after Sherlock and I left home. "Mycroft smiled humourlessly deciding not to mention how much the man looked like the Doctor, How every man that his mother ever dated looked like the Doctor, waiting for the Master to make his fairly obvious next move.

The Master nodded fingers slipping to caress his belt thoughtfully as if the idea of belting him brought him no small amount of satisfaction, watching Mycroft standing still waiting.

"You went off radar! Were you meeting with rebels! "the master growled Mycroft raised an eyebrow upon hearing that, he had thought the cuffs were fool proof. Giving the master a look that said 'most certainly did not'. The Master frowned thoughtfully at him awaiting a verbal response.

"No Master I was doing the job you had assigned me, The rebels cornered us on our way back, and you saved us, they recognised me as a traitor, we shouldn't have been out so late, I was carried away by planning, I apologies "

The Master was inwardly grinning, wondering if Mycroft would have said something like that months ago. "I believe you were warned about punishment if you failed to utilise your gift properly, you should have known better Miky"

The short nod from Mycroft suggested that it (the failure) was inevitable. Waiting for his sentence suddenly wishing he was facing the Toclafane again. "Of course Master, how do you want me? "

"Bent over the chair of course" The Master sang pleasantly watching Mycroft do just that standing to the side to admire the curve of his backside for such a long moment that Mycroft was beginning to wonder if this was some kind of joke.

The Master stepped forward his belt in one hand, his free hand resting on Mycroft's lower back. "I hope that you realise that I'm doing this for your own good Mycroft, this hurts me far more than it hurts you"

Mycroft was a millisecond from rolling his eyes, wondering how to tell the Master that he played a shit father figure when the belt snapped across his backside, earning not even a jump from Mycroft. The Master decided that it was because he'd become desensitised and brought the belt down with more force.

The Master quickly losing his temper as Mycroft refused to show any emotion the belt clearly not doing anything to bring out any sort of traumatic memories. Mycroft managing to remain silent through every hit. The Master getting closer to using the belt to throttle him than beat him any thoughts of fatherly behaviour out the window.

"Strip" the Master growled watching Mycroft's steady hands quickly removing his clothing waiting for further orders, his face slightly red with the exertion. Backside, thighs and lower back a darkening red colour. Standing before the Master waiting for further instructions, clearly no longer caring about himself.

"Sherlock tried to kill himself today. He apparently doesn't appreciate me using his Doctor for football." Mycroft spun around his face no longer a mask his mouth opening to ask the vital questions only to find that the Master had his screw driver in hand, his arms automatically flying over his head raising him off the ground leaving him hanging in mid-air by the cuffs that had been placed on his wrists upon leaving.

The master had somehow gagged him his laser screwdrivers end suddenly glowing a bright red as a whip like end appeared at the end, the Master not giving him a chance to argue, a blood lust brought on by Mycroft's consistent refusal to give the Master any sound of pain.

The first slap of the Laser Screwdrivers whip instantly pulled a scream from Mycroft, the last one met with silence as he hung from the chain too tired to even scream, the gag long ago removed, bathed in sweat the Master released the hold on the cuffs allowing him to drop down. Feeling at peace with himself now. The sight of bloody stripes and bruising and pain exactly what he had needed after a day like this.

He picked Mycroft up dropping him over the side of the bed, wondering about using him completely, dragging his fingers over the cuts allowing Mycroft a moment to catch his breath, suddenly reminded of how tired he was.

"Will you ever disappoint me again?" asked the Master purely for the need to hear Mycroft to submit. His fingers slipping across each deep welt toward the crack of his backside. Fully prepared to continue hurting him until he got what he wanted.

"I hope not Master…" Mycroft dragged in a pained breath as the Master stood up and away from him allowing him to standing up, not beaten to the point of being unable to walk. " I know what will happen if I do Master"

The Master actually grinned at that throwing back his clothing, before sauntering out of the door. "Sherlock's alive." He said over his shoulder transporting Mycroft back to the complex as Mycroft was still pulling on his trousers. Deciding to locate Lucy to let her know how much trouble she had caused…

TBC