After the whole incident of Gallifrey getting blown up and the Master trying to kill her and her friends again, instead of letting him die in the explosion, she kidnapped him by materializing the Tardis around him before it went off.
She should've taken him to some prison, but, he had already done so much damage and she was afraid to let him out of her sight. Well, he had wanted her attention? Now he certainly had it.
She had given him a room to live in, it had a bed and a table and chair. It was fairly small actually, and was more like a cell. He couldn't leave it as she kept him locked inside, the door had a window, secured with bars, that she could look through and check up on him, even though the room had cameras in it as well. Even when he was trapped and the room had no dangerous objects in it(that she knew of), one could never be too safe with him.
At first he was angry about it and sulked at his predicament, but as time went on he got more and more bored and started messing with her as much as he could. What other or better entertainment was there? Annoying the Doctor had always been his favorite pastime after all.
Was he afraid of her? Well, he was already imprisoned, so he didn't exactly have the upper hand and upon capturing him she did indulge in a bit of physical revenge in the form of a thrashing. It wasn't his fondest experience, but nothing that he couldn't get over.
"Right, here's your food," she graced him with her presence, carrying in a tray and setting it down on his desk.
"Not cooked by you, I hope," he craned his neck from where he was sitting on his bed, "oh, those vegetables? Ew, gross, I told you I didn't like that! Bring me something better next time why don't you."
He made a show of scowling and pouting at her.
She paused in front of him and sighed crossing her arms. She knew he was putting up an act like he always does, and wasn't in the slightest bit surprised, having had to deal with him for as long as she has.
"You don't like it? Man.. I guess you'll have to starve to death, oh well, see you at your funeral," she said and turned to head to the door.
He snorted, then piped up with a bit too much eagerness in his voice seeing that she was about to leave.
"Wait!" he got her to turn her head, as her hand was already on the door handle, "I'm, I'm bored here! Can't you at least have the decency to stay and play with me, I promise, I'll be nice!"
"Being nice isn't exactly your strong suit."
"You can teach me, I mean, you're the embodiment, the expert of niceness! Look at your many acts of niceness, like, locking me up in a cell, for one. Even smaller than the vault this time, so that's extra nice, I presume!"
The Doctor exhaled, clearly catching the subtle dig at her. She was already well aware of her supposed hypocrisy, but he was always eager to point out the obvious.
"Right, so, use this opportunity to reflect and learn to be more nice yourself, see you."
He was sensing that he might already be getting under her skin despite her cold reactions, and there was nothing he loved more than winding the Doctor up.
"Right! Then you won't mind me rotting away in my loneliness and boredom. Maybe I'll play with the matches I smuggled in here, light on fire one of these tissue boxes you gave me and reminisce of how pretty Gallifrey was when I set it aflame. I do still wish you had been there to see it, what a sight it was." he blabbered on, watching her as she still stood by the door turned away from him. Was he coming on a bit strong with all this? Maybe, but it was succeeding in grinding her gears, and, in his defense, the boredom was killing him, he could use with a bit of amusement.
"You," she turned at him, fighting the urge to give him the satisfaction of making her visibly upset.
He raised her eyebrows at her, smugness practically radiating from his face.
"...," she took a moment to fight back the emotion and spoke more calmly again, "I don't doubt you would lie, but, if you do have matches, I simply suggest you hand them over now."
He snorted, making that obnoxious grin at her.
"See? Now it's interesting, I can keep you guessing! Do I have matches, will I start a fire? Am I lying, because nothing could get past you to be smuggled in here? Who knows? Always good to be kept on your toes!"
"As much as I know that being self-destructive is something you excel at, I will inform you that it's in your own best interests to not be caught with them later."
"Oh? That sounds threatening! What is big bad Doctor going to do to me, her poor naughty prisoner."
"Yes, you're the victim, I'm so mean, aren't I? It's not like you've made it your mission in life to make my life hell and hurt as many innocent people as possible while doing it? I'm so nice to you despite everything you've done, I should really not allow myself to do this, you know!"
"Oh! Did I upset you?" he gasped dramatically, "Were my words, hurtful? The Doctor is upset, what is she going to do? Lecture me? Forgive me? Imprison me? Spank me? "
The Doctor had enough. Her patience was wearing thinner by the day, and he seemed to think hurting her feelings was some game. Of course he did, he's the self proclaimed evil Master. Somehow, despite what situation he's in, he thinks he can get away with anything. She wasn't sure if giving him genuine anger would count as losing in the sense of giving in to his provocation, but it may as well be that he was counting on the fact that she would try to hold back. Either way, at this point, she didn't care and was going to give him genuine consequences, whether it's what he wanted or not.
Without a word, she was out the room immediately, slamming the door behind her. He snorted, shaking his head. Oh dear, he thought, was she offended, didn't want to play anymore? A shame, he would have to find something else to occupy himself with until her next visit then. This probably meant that she would be even less willing to stay for a chat next time, but offending the Doctor was always too much fun to resist, he couldn't regret it.
The Doctor was rummaging through a certain drawer until she found what she needed and turned it over in her hand. A hairbrush, made of wood, it wasn't her own but someone's that had left it here. She knew combing hair wasn't the only purpose it could be utilized for, it was certainly not what she was planning to do to the Master with it.
Still as furious as before, she stormed back to his cell. Throwing the door open and finding him where she'd seen him last, sitting on his bed in pajamas.
"Back so soon? Oh, I get it, if I were you I also couldn't bear more than 5 minutes without seeing mys- ..self" as she locked the door behind herself again,she heard the change in his voice, perhaps he remembered the taunt he had thrown at her right before she left the room.
She wasn't about to give him much time to ponder. She plopped down right next to the now wide-eyed Master. He seemed to have caught on and was scrambling to get up, but before he could go anywhere, she simply grabbed his arm and with one strong pull, he landed over her knees instead.
"No!" he exclaimed, yet the Doctor ignored his complaint and grabbed hold of his right wrist, twisting it behind his back, pressing him into the mattress. His wild struggling and kicking didn't make it any harder for her to yank his pants down in one tug. His pajama bottoms had an elastic waist, easy to pull past his hips and, as he had no underwear on, this left his posterior naked, perfectly presented for a good hiding.
"Doctor! No! Not this again, fuck you!" he thrashed around futely, left only to scream his frustrations as physically, he was clearly overpowered.
"Watch your mouth. This has been looong overdue, I've been way too soft on you, but I plan on fixing that."
The fixing involved receiving many good smacks from a wooden hairbrush that were anything but soft. The Doctor was so fed up, she had been forthcoming so many times, but he has been an absolute ungrateful brat for anything that she does for him! If that's how it's going to be, she thought, she might just do what's fair and repay his behaviour accordingly.
He grunted in frustration.
"I hate you, you- Ow!"
The Doctor wasn't about to idly sit and listen to his verbal abuse, she had a job to do.
"Ah! I hate you! I hate you!"
She was smacking him hard, as hard as she could. The flat brush making contact with his flesh created a loud slap. His cries got whinier and more desperate the longer she went on for, but mostly they just sounded bratty.
"I wish you would die! Ow! You're crazy! Ah!"
He trashed around, kicking the bed, wriggling his hips side to side as much as he could, but the brush never failed to strike him and it was driving him mad.
"You have so much energy and you've never put it towards anything worthwhile. With how you treat people, you should get disciplined way more often than you are. Usually, I wouldn't think physical force is a good answer, but in your particular case, it seems like humiliation and a hot bottom is the only way to get through to your head!"
"..That's not true!"
The Doctor scoffed,
"Oh, you know it is. It's so funny, you are supposedly smart, come up with all these elaborate schemes, have delusional ambitions of world domination, yet end up here. Throwing, what essentially is, a tantrum and crying over my knee, like the juvenile delinquent that you are, underneath all of the acting."
Hearing this made him still for a moment, before he started twisting around again, as if with a renewed energy.
"You're so ridiculous! Trying to be deep about how you're hurting me! Owww! You're a violent bitch! I despise your moral high ground! You should be the one imprisoned, not me!"
The Doctor couldn't lie that his insults aggravated her a bit. But he had really chosen the wrong time and place for it, his backside receiving the brunt of her anger which he had caused with his careless words. His thighs got their fair share of attention too and soon enough a uniform red was pulsing on his flesh.
A few minutes had passed and his arse was now glowing with heat, the redness and purplish bruises looked quite mean. It was sure to give him something to think about for the next couple of days, she thought, looking down at her work with satisfaction.
Spanking was a good approach to dealing with his insolence, but the Doctor thought that he should be more mindful about his words specifically. Maybe he didn't mean it, but being called a bitch while in this body, didn't sit right with her. Maybe a good mouthsoaping will help get rid of his unpleasant language. Well, who is she kidding, there was nothing that would ever fully rid him of being an insufferable brat, but it would do for now.
She released his wrist and took him by the arm to pull him up from the bed. He took the opportunity immediately going to pull up his pants, but almost tripping as he was roughly shoved forward.
The Doctor pushed him into the bathroom segment of his room and stood him in front of the sink. He gave her a confused look,
"Came here to look at yourself to see the monster you've become?" he referred to the mirror, which he was currently avoiding looking into himself.
She shook her head at the dramatic statement and reached for a cupboard, still holding him firmly by the arm. She found a yet unused bar of soap and turned on the water, holding the soap under the stream.
"...You decide this as the time to finally wash yourself?" he threw out a remark, then paused, as the realization suddenly became clear to him.
"Oh, no, you are not- mph!" before he could turn away, she grabbed his head and forced the soap bar into his mouth. It seemed like he would spit it out the moment he shook her off, so she laid down the rules fast.
"You are not to spit that out before I allow you, if you do so, I'll get a cane that I have lying around in the TARDIS storage, and you'r sorry butt will be in for a lot more than it already has!"
To emphasize what she meant, she gave a hard swat to his freshly-paddled backside, that was still unclothed due to the pants sliding to his ankles before he managed to take hold and reposition them.
He jumped, making a shocked squeak, his eyes widening at her brashness, there seemed to be some genuine concern in them. He moved a hand back to give a rub at the smarting skin, at least now he looked much more sorry than he did earlier. The Doctor had the feeling that he may finally be regretting some of the actions that had led him up to his point, now that he realized that the consequences would be much more real and unpleasant than he had anticipated.
The Doctor grabbed his head again, rubbing the soap against his tongue. He was squawking through the gag, telepathically requesting a link, but she didn't let him. Now she was going to speak and he was going to listen. It was time for him to be quiet and let the bitter soap do it's work on his filthy mouth, what was the point if she would just let him speak anyway?
"Look at you now, leaning over a sink with your red bottom exposed, soap in your mouth, suds running down your chin. You are no big terrifying evil leader that you pretend to be, you're a spoiled brat that needs juvenile punishments to bring him back to his senses."
His chest was heaving and his face was red as ever, he was quiet for a second, then stomped his foot against the floor, making an angry grunt through the soap gag.
"Proving my point again," the Doctor merely stated.
The Master paused, bracing on the sink, looking down straight into it.
He didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think of how much his arse was burning, how there was disgusting soap in his mouth blocking him from speaking, how the Doctor was standing next to him reading him to filth. He didn't want to look up into the mirror and see his tear stained face. He probably looked like a right mess, like all those things the Doctor described, but he didn't want to acknowledge it, he would screw his eyes shut and brace himself until she finally ends this horrible ordeal.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible."
His head whipped up towards her.
"Yes I took the liberty of reading your mind, your defenses aren't very good right now you know?"
He huffed and looked down into the sink again.
"As I said, you won't get to ignore your problems, that's what this is about. I want you to look at the mirror."
Unsurprisingly, he shook his head.
"Master, cut this out, you know being stubborn isn't going to get you anywhere."
He ignored her still and the Doctor sighed. If childish refusal is really how he wanted to do this right now.
SMACK.
"Mgph!" He probably cursed through the soap as his ass was struck by the Doctors hand again.
He hit the sink with his hand in frustration then took a breath and raised his eyes toward the mirror.
He didn't like what he saw. He looked every bit like the snotty faced brat that the Doctor had described him to be. Biting on a bar of soap, tears and saliva running down his face, he looked horrible and ashamed. He wanted to be evil, to rile people up, but he didn't want this. The result of what happens when those people end up getting the better of him.
"But that's your own fault."
She startled him again.
"Yes, I read your mind again."
He rolled his eyes.
"It's your fault that you put yourself in these situations. It's unreasonable to believe that mistreating others will never come back to bite you in the ass! How arrogant are you to think that!"
His entitlement still upset her, enough that this earned him another sharp smack.
"Mpph!" he whined in pain. He hated this situation with every iota of his being and he did not like having his tender backside exposed, vulnerable to being slapped by her whenever she felt like it.
He crouched, reaching for the waist of his trousers, only to have his arm grabbed and his body wrenched up straight. Receiving another swat straight after.
"You didn't think I would allow that, the cheek of you!"
SMACK. His bottom suffered a second blow.
The Doctor knew she was laying it on hard, but she wanted to drive the lesson home as much as possible. And smacking his naked behind seemed to be the best way of reminding him that he has no control of the situation and it isn't meant to be comfortable for him.
He whimpered and turned to her with something like a plea in his eyes. Going the apologetic route now? The Doctor shook her head, it was too late, such games won't work on her.
"You clearly need time to think," she took hold of his arm and started leading him out of the room.