Yaz wasn't sure what drew her to investigate the darkened basement of the abandoned mansion all by herself with a killer on the loose—she had seen enough low-budget horror films to know what a spectacularly bad idea it was. Graham and Ryan were hunting for clues on the grounds and the Doctor was goodness-knew-where on the property. Probably talking to herself, hashing out a genius plan, swishing about that golden hair...
Yaz shook her head. Obsessive thoughts about the Doctor were a disturbingly regular occurrence and sometimes impossible to hold at bay. She couldn't help but wonder what her Doctor looked like beneath those rainbows...
Without realizing, Yaz had opened a door to the basement stairs while lost in her musings. Only the top few steps were visible in the gloaming light from the windows around her, the rest swallowed up by a sinister pitch of black. Bad idea. Exciting idea, she almost heard the Doctor say.
Switching on a small torch she kept in her pocket, Yaz held her breath, listened closely. When nothing slithered or cackled or wailed, she tentatively crept down the creaking stairs. Under normal circumstances, no way in hell would she have closed the door behind her, but in this case she was too absorbed in the thrill of the mystery to note her own ludicrous action.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, the darkness swallowed up the beam of her torch. She kept her hand on the wall for reference.
Shoes shuffled on the floor somewhere in the gloom.
Yaz froze. She was not alone. Adrenaline shocked through her body. Wildly, she shone her light about the room.
"Hello? Who's there?!" Yaz called, trying desperately to keep her cool. Her gaze flew to the top of the stairs in search of an escape route, but the blackness was complete. Had she shut the door?
Yaz was ready to make a break for it. The lights overhead blinded her suddenly. Flinging her hand up to cover her eyes from the glare, she could only hear the man's exclamation.
"Surprise!"
No. No, no, no…
Her eyes adjusted to the light. There stood the Master in ridiculous checked trousers, hands flung dramatically towards the low ceiling in the center of the cavernous basement. The main room was sparsely furnished save for a large four poster bed surrounded by a plush rug. Something dangled from the ceiling behind the Master.
"You're surprised, right, tell me you're surprised!" he prattled, sardonic amusement in his dulcet tones. He advanced languorously.
Yaz was not one to freeze up in an emergency, but her feet felt rooted to the floor.
"What are you doing here?" Yaz said, voice tight.
"Oh, you are surprised. Goody!" The Master clapped his hands in quick succession and flashed his brilliant white teeth in muted, manic glee.
Apparently she'd failed to conceal the panic from her features. Yaz's eyes darted to the door at the top of the stairs as he continued to stroll towards her. Why?! Why had she—
"Right now, you're probably asking yourself, 'What in time and space possessed me to close that door?'" the Master drawled.
The fresh confusion on Yaz's face came out to keep the panic company. She was less impressed that he seemed to know the answer to this question than the fact he'd known the question to begin with.
Clearly he wanted her to play along. She couldn't have bolted anyhow, her trainers glued down as if coated in gobs of industrial-strength chewing gum. Yaz bit back her fear and channeled the Doctor, raising her chin impetuously.
"Well?" she demanded.
The Master paused a meter away, just out of reach. The mania slipped into a sensual, predatory smile. He closed the last of the distance between them. Her flaring nostrils took him in—a heady, masculine scent with a hint of spiced vanilla and a dash of the same alien undertones the Doctor exuded. It took every ounce of her fierce strength to keep from flinching as he planted a hand on the wall beside her.
The Master tilted his head down to regard her directly from behind a curtain of black fringe. "Perhaps it's because you knew this little soiree was invitation only," he purred, his words an intimate promise.
Yaz blushed at an embarrassing jolt of arousal and tried to suppress a shiver of anticipation, an antagonistic echo of what she'd felt with O.
"St… stop that," she said, her voice disconcertingly husky.
"Stop what?" he rumbled in her ear. "I haven't done anything." An unspoken yet hung in the air.
Slowly, the Master reached out and gently caressed her cheek with his knuckles. Yaz inhaled sharply and squeezed her eyes shut as his fingers grazed the delicate flesh of her neck. She knew how to cope with harsh words, insults, the threat of violence—but she was completely gobsmacked by the Master's gossamer touch, and even more so by her body's reaction.
The Master's fingers trailed down to her collarbone and continued beneath her jacket, over the top of her t-shirt. She almost leaned into his touch when he suddenly and firmly grabbed onto one of her tits.
Slammed back into the gravity and insanity of the situation, Yaz yelped, eyes popped open. The Master grinned as she knocked his hand away. He took a small step back to appreciate his work.
She balled up a fist, putting him at the perfect range—Yaz had always been more of a puncher than a slapper.
It was awkward to take a swing with her feet glued to the floor, but it didn't stop her from trying. She threw her weight into the artificial firmness of her stance. The Master leaned his smug face further away.
"There's that spirit the Doctor is so fond of!" the Master hooted.
Halfway through her lunge, Yaz's feet were suddenly free, throwing her off balance.
The Master ducked back and down, thrusting his shoulder up into Yaz's stomach as she fell. Tweed scraped against her belly where her t-shirt rode up. As the Master stood, Yaz's world inverted, flung over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. She tried to knee him in the stomach, but he just laughed and hugged her thighs more tightly to his chest as he strode across the room. She struggled mightily. He was stronger than he looked.
"Put me down!"
The Master complied. Dumped onto her feet, Yaz barely kept herself upright. She pulled a defensive stance from her police training.
"The Doctor always did prefer her pets sassy," the Master smirked.
"Well you've got me here," Yaz spat. "So now what?" Proud she was at her ability to hold the Master's twinkling, fathomless gaze through his moment of menacing silence.
"I'm so glad you asked!" he finally said.
Yaz hated that she couldn't help but stare at the Master's luscious lips. They curled into a positively devilish smile as fascination and fear twined around her mind. He strode forward. Instinctively she stepped back. She almost jumped a mile when a swaying something clinked against her back. Unwilling to take her eyes off the wily bastard before her she glanced back quickly: shackles, chained to the ceiling.
Her mind was suddenly overwhelmed by an image of herself half-naked and restrained as the Master fucked her hard and fast from behind. At the jarring and harshly erotic vision, Yaz let out a shout of dismay that almost matched the Master's bark of laughter. Her ponytail lashed violently as she tried to clear her head.
She felt her mental acuity return and gawped at the Master's knowing smile. His eyes glinted viciously as they flicked to her feet and back to her face, a slight nod daring her to try. Grunting with the effort, Yaz once again found her feet cemented to the floor. A yowl of frustration left her lips.
She drew a ragged breath to speak and the Master cut her off.
"No, I'm not actually controlling your body. Technically I'm controlling your weak little human mind. Which in turn controls your currently helpless body. Obviously." The Master rolled his eyes with an "ugh" of annoyance.
He'd done it again. At least this time she had an explanation, which perhaps with some time she could exploit.
"I cannot fathom why the Doctor enjoys having to spell out every… last… detail to you primates."
He stalked over to Yaz, arms folded smugly over his chest. "I know what I am going to enjoy though..."
Yaz somehow managed to keep her mind a blank.
"Now," he said, clapping his hands together firmly and rubbing his palms together. "We can do this the easy way or the—" He laughed and shook his head emphatically. "Oh, who am I kidding, both ways are easy as far as I'm concerned. And equally as entertaining. Take off your jacket."
Which would be the lesser of two evils? Simply give into this egomaniac's demands, or gift him the satisfaction of a fight? Considering his advantage, it seemed unlikely she'd buy herself any time if she fought. Yaz shifted her weight and found her feet were free again. Enticement for a scrap, she wagered. Begrudgingly she slipped her jacket off and let it drop on the floor.
"Raise your hands above your head."
Yaz glowered at the Master as she lifted her arms. She'd cling to as much dignity as she could in this situation. He raised his eyebrows in mock delight.
"My, my, you are easy! But we all know the Doctor doesn't like a challenge when it comes to her pets."
Her nostrils flared but she remained silent. Dignity.
The Master closed the distance. He yanked Yaz's shirt up and over her head and flung it away.
"Just lovely," the Master breathed sarcastically, though the intent of his intonation didn't quite cover up the truth behind his words.
Yaz suppressed a shudder—not at the Master's seductive voice, not at his fiery gaze, just at the breeze of his movement on her freshly-bared skin. Dignity.
Circling behind Yaz, the Master ran a hand up that soft flesh, from the waistband of her trousers, over the cotton of her black bra, up to her wrists, still held aloft. Gooseflesh followed in the wake of his touch. He grabbed one tiny wrist in his strong hand and leaned in to briefly nibble on her earlobe. Yaz convinced herself that the arousal that shot through her must be the Master's mind-control.
A cold shackle clacked into place around her wrist.
"I certainly had something to do with it..." he murmured in reply as if she'd spoken aloud. He seized her other wrist. "… but that je ne c'est quoi you are experiencing is all you, sunshine."
The metal now trapped both her arms. For support Yaz grabbed the chains that attached to the ceiling. The Master stepped back a couple of paces and admired the scene with a smirk.
"If only the Doctor could see you now..."