Archive of Our Own ^beta

She can’t breathe. 

So hollow, so empty. Aching. Ravenous hunger pervades every cell of her body; demanding more, more, more. 

The squelch of flesh, hot and wet and red between her gnashing teeth.

The sound of drums, thundering louder and louder, endless and insistent, closing in around her.

Sharp, electric pain frying every nerve until she's trapped; a prisoner in her own dying body. 

No…not her body.

Missy suddenly startled awake; her heaving breaths the only sound in the vast, empty ship. 

Nightmares were a far less common occurrence since she’d regenerated, but they still occasionally plagued her. Travelling alone had its perks, but on nights like these, she could admit to seeing the merits of company. 

She shivered in her bedroom, blinking away the last vestiges of the nightmare. It’d been a long time since she’d been forced to reminisce on that part of her life; really she preferred to forget it happened altogether. But, apparently, her subconscious mind had yet to catch up to that fact, dragging up the memories to process through dreams instead. 

Feeling safer in the waking world, in the sanctuary of her room, Missy let her mind drift back to the sickening imagery. 

The merciless pounding of the drums, worse than ever before, it had been so loud. It still felt strange sometimes, waking up to silence, after so many years of suffering the incessant noise. 

She had felt so terribly alone back then, stranded and sick, unravelling at the seams and yet still clinging on so tightly to life. To survival. 

What she wouldn’t have given then for a speck of understanding. For true companionship; not the strings-attached friendship the Doctor offered. A little comfort, relief, would’ve gone a long way.

Even now, with her own TARDIS, she’s still alone. Sure, she knew where the Doctor was, how she could find him. But she didn’t want him right now. 

He would never understand.

~

It was a bad idea, Missy thought, even as she plugged the coordinates into the console. But when had that ever stopped her? 

She just needed to do this. Consequences be damned. 

The ship screeched to a stuttering halt, loudly protesting her choice of destination. Missy ignored it, bracing herself on the edge of the console before straightening up. She paused in front of the doors for just a moment, reconsidering the whole thing, before pushing them open. 

The junkyard was just as barren and vast as she remembered it, the acrid stench of smoke and burning rubber hanging in the stagnant air. It was night, darkness blanketing the tall mounds of loose rock and refuse that stretched out as far as the eye could see. 

The sharp tingling of a timeline being disrupted prickled angrily at her skin as she stepped out onto the ground. Pins and needles.

Missy ignored it, continuing forward despite the sense of wrongness that accompanied each step, now set on her plans. She didn’t know which direction to head in, but the ship had landed her right here, so it couldn't be far. As it turned out, she barely had to take ten steps from her TARDIS when a gruff voice stopped her in her tracks.

“What are you doing here?”

Missy turned on her heel, whipping around to the source of the sound. She took in the ragged figure sitting in front of her.

Rassilon, she… he looked rough. 

The Master glared at her from his spot, sitting cross-legged inside one of the giant metal pipes. His eyes were wide and wild, filled with suspicion. She’d nearly forgotten just how threadbare those stolen clothes had been, now coated almost completely in dust from the wasteland he’d been driven to hide out in. He was holding a rib in his hand, entirely stripped of meat and covered in gnaw marks. A bolt of sympathy ran through her at the memory. Desperate times, indeed.

She didn’t know what to say, she wasn’t entirely sure why she'd come herself. She just needed company. Someone who really understood. 

Leaning on her umbrella, Missy turned to face her previous incarnation properly.

“Well, hello to you, too,” she dipped into a little curtsy. “I came to find you, of course.”

He just narrowed his eyes at her and scowled. 

“I heard your TARDIS land. You look… different. What happened this time?”

Missy rolled her eyes. She’d been expecting this kind of reaction from him.

“Well, I couldn’t carry on being a man forever, could I? A girl’s got to branch out once and a while.”

It had been a surprise when she’d regenerated, but not an overall unpleasant one. The details were a bit fuzzy, to be honest. Still, if she had known ahead of time, she could imagine her reaction to the news would’ve been exactly the same as his.

“This is a new low. Even for you, Doctor.”

Oh, well, that wasn’t what she’d been expecting. 

Missy wasn’t sure whether to be offended or to take it as a compliment to her ability to disguise herself. Not that she’d particularly been trying to hide who she was this time. She just figured he’d recognize himself, but apparently that wasn’t the case. Maybe he was currently in too poor a state to do so.

Still, this presented an interesting opportunity, indeed. One she’s too curious to pass up. How hard could it be to play Doctor for a while?

“Now, that's not very nice. I came all this way to see you, after all.” She tutted, putting her hands on her hips and faking a little pout. “It took an awful lot of work to get here too.”

“You’re out of sync.” The Master squinted at her warily. “From my personal future, then?”

“You could say that,” Missy chirped, taking a few steps closer. 

The Master stiffened, his eyes widening further with apprehension. She didn’t know what to make of the strange thrill of excitement that sparked in her core at his obvious show of fear. Despite his clear anxiety, the Master didn’t get up, just tracked her with his eyes as she inched closer.

“What do you want, then?” 

“Why, I’ve come to help you, of course.” And didn’t that just serve her purposes perfectly. The Doctor was always showing up, offering his unsolicited ‘help’. 

The only difference was, she really did want to help him. Well, and herself. Same thing, really.

The Master, predictably, snarled at her in revulsion. 

“I don’t need your help!”

Missy knew he wouldn't come back with her willingly. She knew that the moment the idea concretized itself in her head, when she was still lying in bed. 

Maybe it was terrible of her; selfish. But he was her, so she felt somewhat justified in her selfishness. 

She’d need to get him to let her into his head somehow, just long enough for her to take advantage. Then she could make it all better, soften all the sharp edges in his mind, soothe it all until he was pliant enough to bend to her whims. 

She had the perfect idea.

“Oh, but I thought you wanted me to hear the drums?” She paused before adding: “Provided they’re actually real, that is.”

Missy knew she had him the moment his face contorted with rage. He took the bait blindly.

“Of course they’re real! They've always been real!”

“Then let me hear them, prove it to me. Maybe I can help.” She threw in the last bit to sound extra Doctor-y. 

The Master still looked suspicious, but she knew his desire for validation would win out in the end. She remembered just how desperate she’d been to have anyone acknowledge them, to agree that maybe she wasn’t just mad after all.

He was silent for a moment, calculating, before sitting up on his knees. He tossed the rib aside.

“Come here.”

Missy concealed her grin of satisfaction before it could give her away, and stepped forward. She held still and let the Master reach out to her, his hands bracing on either side of her temples. 

As soon as he opened his mind to share the drums, it was over. 

His mental defences were just as weak as she remembered them being at this point; he was completely unable to block out her stronger mind, not when he was suffering so much from the resurrection sickness, only made worse by the drumbeat that was steadily getting louder with every waking moment. 

She broke through his shields with ease, immediately projecting her own calm into his mind to dull the sharp spike of panic. Missy was forced to catch the Master as his body suddenly sagged from the psychic assault. He was helpless as she took full control, stamping down any resistance, replacing the fight and fury in his mind with only comfortable complacence. 

It'd been ages since she’d heard the drums in her mind like this; so distractingly loud. She quieted them as much as she could, lowering the volume and urgency of the beat. The Master’s body crumpled further, relaxing with the sudden relief.

“There you go, isn’t that better?” She cooed, holding him close in a strange approximation of a hug. “I can hear them, dear. They’re very real.” 

Oh, how she wished someone had said that to her. Now, she supposed, they had. Shame she wouldn’t remember.

The Master shuddered, sighing into her shoulder. 

“They’re real.” He repeated, mirroring her. “Real. Real. Real.”

There’s nothing she could do for the resurrection-induced delirium other than try to dampen his racing thoughts. Still, he was already becoming much calmer, relief and vindication radiating from his clouded mind as he leaned all his weight into her. 

“See how much I can help? Now, why don’t you come with me, and I can help you even more?”

She saw the momentary flicker of distrust on his face as he leaned back to look at her, and easily reached into his mind to stamp it out. He blinked absently as it disappeared, then nodded slowly. 

Missy helped him to his feet, dusting off his clothes before leading him the short distance back to her TARDIS. Another little flicker of confusion sparked through the link as he stood in front of the doors, wondering why he wasn’t looking at a police box. She extinguished it easily and took him by the hand to tug him inside.

He was nice and compliant as she led him through the halls to her bedroom, following her in a quiet daze. Now for the fun part.

“Up on the bed, now, dear.” She ordered, patting the mattress.

The Master complied without a word, sitting down as she went to rummage around in a nearby drawer. His eyes widened only slightly as she turned back to him with a collar in hand, bright red. He wouldn’t recognize it, none of that had happened for him yet, she supposed.

He held obediently still as she fastened it around his neck, keeping his dark eyes on her all the while. With the collar tightened to her liking, she then attached the matching leash to the silver ring at the front. Missy stepped back to admire her work.

The Master looked down at the collar, blinking but offering no protests. 

“What’s this for?” He asked, sounding adorably innocent. Missy tamped down another surge of perverse excitement.

“Don’t worry about it, pet.” She cooed. “All I want you to think about is relaxing. I’m going to make you feel so much better.”

He perked up at that, both interest and confusion sifting through the link. 

Wasting no more time, she climbed up onto the bed next to him, guiding him onto his back with a hand on his chest. He went easily, letting himself be pushed down without a fuss. He looked up at her curiously as she moved to straddle his hips. 

“What are you doing?” The Master asked, his eyes tracking her hand as she traced it down his body, starting at his throat and stopping at his crotch. He let out a little gasp as she started rubbing him through his jeans, coaxing him to get hard for her.

“I’m helping you, of course.” She worked open his belt and the zip of his trousers, dipping her hand inside to touch him directly. He tensed up as she grabbed his cock. 

“And how is this… helping?” He panted softly, eyes unfocused but still trained on where her hand disappeared into his jeans.

“Are you saying it doesn’t feel good, pet?” Missy hummed, working him to full hardness. She remembered exactly what she used to like when she was him, and used that against him now, drinking in his little noises of pleasure as she stroked him.

The Master just shook his head, unable to concentrate enough through the pleasure and the hypnotic haze to form proper words right now.  

He didn’t move as she rolled off of him, only breathing heavily and obediently staying in place. Missy stripped him fully before making herself comfortable against the pillows, spreading her legs and reaching up under her dress to tug her underwear down and off. The Master watched the movement with interest, but stayed where she put him. 

Missy rucked her dress and petticoats up to her waist, then reached out for him, pulling him up onto his knees in front of her. She laid back, dragging him down onto hands and knees over top of her. He froze in place, eyes wide. Missy thought he looked beautiful, naked except for the red collar. But then, she’d always been a bit of a narcissist.

“Come on, now, dear. Don’t make me wait all night.” She purred, reaching down between his legs to stroke him.

The Master shivered as she dragged him forward by his cock, lining him up with her entrance. He looked up at her, searching for approval; like he was worried he would do the wrong thing and be reprimanded. 

When she just nodded at him, he relaxed, leaning his hips forward and slowly starting to sink into her. He inhaled sharply, hanging his head as he pushed in further; the warm, wet heat squeezing perfectly around his cock. 

He quickly devolved into a whimpering mess, burying his head into her shoulder as he chased the pleasure, starting to rock his hips into her ruthlessly. 

Missy tsked and grabbed the leash, wrapping it around her hand a few times and tugging hard.

The Master yelped and stopped moving, lifting his head to look at her in confusion.

“Don’t be rude, now. You have to make sure I have a good time, too.” She scolds. “Or don’t you know how to please a lady?” 

She knew he really didn’t, and suppressed a laugh at the look on his face. She could remember many heated nights spent in bed with Lucy, taking only what she wanted and sparing no extra attention for her poor ‘wife’. 

“You’re to fuck me slowly, until I tell you otherwise. You can do that, can’t you?”

He frowned and nodded, still hesitant to start moving again for fear of getting corrected. Missy reached down to slap his arse to get him moving again.

His little whines grew louder now that he was forced to slow down and take his time. Every thrust drawn out impossibly long, she could feel every inch of him sliding out before he disappeared back into her. The Master balanced on his elbows, nuzzling his nose into her chest as he tried to focus on keeping a steady pace.

“There you go, much better.” She praised, sighing with pleasure as he fucks her just right. 

Well, just right for her, anyway. 

She knew he’d much rather just start jackrabbiting his hips again, if he had his way. She remembered how good that felt before, but her new body had different tastes, so he’d just have to cope. Besides, she found it surprisingly entertaining to tease him this way. What did that say about her? 

“Doesn’t that feel good, pet?”

The Master just whined, shaking his head. Whether that meant ‘yes’ or ‘no’, she wasn’t sure.

“What was that? Use your words.”

“Yes,” he gasped out, muffled against her dress. “Feels good. Please…”

“Please what, dear?”

“Please… faster.” His voice came out strained with the effort of focusing on his words while also keeping up his thrusting. “Let me….” 

Missy hummed, pretending to consider it. It was so fun to tease him like this. Plus, she wanted to get something out of this little encounter too. 

“Not yet.” She decides. The Master made a pitiful little sound in response. “Maybe I'll let you speed up a little after you make me come.”

He nodded his understanding against her chest and kept his rocking obediently slow. It probably felt like an eternity for him before Missy was suddenly gasping and clawing at his back, coming with a moan. Her body squeezed rhythmically around him as she rode out the aftershocks. 

The Master whimpered at the feeling, but didn’t stop. He didn’t know if he was allowed to stop, so he kept thrusting at the same pace as Missy slowly came down from her high. 

“Good boy, so good.” She sighed, petting at his hair. He leaned into the touch like a cat, still making miserable little noises as fucks into her. Missy decided to take pity on him. “You can fuck me harder now, pet. Go on.”

Permission was all he needed, immediately speeding up and gasping with relief. 

The pleasure was overwhelming as he drove into her faster, harder; chasing the feeling building in his gut. Missy moaned and wrapped her arms around his back, pulling his face closer into her chest. She could feel him getting close through the link, his mind starting to blank out everything but the feeling of her body squeezing around him. 

It was a bit too soon for her liking, though. She didn’t want it to end now and have to boot him back out into the awful wasteland. She wanted to have him here with her just a little bit longer. What better company to keep than yourself?

“Getting close, dear?” She wrapped the leash back around her hand in preparation, the Master was too far gone to notice. 

“Yes, yes, yes. Please.” He just nodded and whined. “Let me come.”

She almost felt bad, but not enough to let him go early and ruin the fun. He cried out again as she tugged the leash, yanking his head back and forcing him to make eye contact.

“Not yet.” Missy commanded. “Now, pull out and turn over onto your back.”

The Master groaned in frustration but obeyed, flipping over to lay next to her. His cock looked so red and swollen, still coated in her release. Missy grins to herself. She’d always been so sensitive in that body; it was a real treat to get to play with it again, even if she couldn’t feel it herself.

His eyes widened as she sat up, shifting to kneel over his spread legs. She leans down to rest their foreheads together, locking their eyes. 

“Now, how are you feeling? Are those nasty drums still bothering you?” 

He frowned and nodded, squinting in pain as the sound picked back up at the very mention of them. Missy could still hear them through the link, pounding against his skull. They’d been quieter earlier, drowned out by their coupling. But now, without the distraction, they grew louder again. A twinge of sympathy and understanding stabbed at Missy’s hearts.

“Don’t worry, pet, I’m going to help you forget all about them. You just be good and hold still for me, okay?”

The Master nodded again, swallowing. Missy hiked up her skirts again. His mouth popped open involuntarily as she slowly sank down onto his cock, taking her time. 

She gave him a moment to adjust before starting to ride him in earnest, setting a quick pace. His eyes were unfocused and far away as she did all the work, drool starting to drip from the corner of his mouth. His hands flew up to grab at her waist, grasping frantically at the fabric for something to anchor him against the waves of blinding pleasure.

“Please… please!” She was vaguely surprised he could still speak with how violently his mind was starting to shake apart.

“Please what, pet?” Missy gasped out, not slowing down. “We talked about this, use your words.” 

“Please– let me come!” He sounded so broken, eyes squeezed shut and panting, fists curled in a death grip on her skirts. “I need… I can’t– please!” 

He wasn’t going to last, Missy could feel it. As much as she loathed to let him go, he had been so good for her. 

Even though she had to keep a tight grip on his mind to keep him docile, she could feel how much he really did need this; could remember how badly he wanted someone else to just take control for a while, to run the show for a bit so all he had to do was just relax and take it. But there had been no one he could trust to do it. 

She was fixing that now. He could trust himself, even if he didn’t technically know she was him. And she knew just how to take him apart. 

Even the drums were now buried under the overwhelming feeling of heat that kept building with every slide of her body over his. He deserved this. They deserved this.

“Yes, pet. You’re allowed, go ahead and come for me.” 

The Master immediately stiffened up, obediently spilling into her with a strangled groan. The hands on her waist squeezed tight enough to leave bruises; she wasn’t sure how she’d explain them to the Doctor later. The Master’s body relaxed as his orgasm subsided, Missy still bouncing on his softening cock. She rode him until he was whimpering again from overstimulation, only stopping when he started to claw at her hips desperately. 

She let him slip out of her gently before she rolled off of him, laying down at his side. He turned over to face her automatically, burying his face into her chest again as he panted heavily. She held him close, petting his hair and stroking down his spine as he listened to her heartsbeat.

“See now, isn’t that better, dear?”

The Master made a vague sound in the affirmative, unwilling to lift his head to properly speak. Missy could feel the drumbeat slowly returning, and dampened the sound as best she could. He deserved to rest a bit longer before it came back to plague him again. 

“Would you like to stay with me a little longer?” She asked, continuing to pet him. 

She knew he couldn’t stay all night, the timelines were already protesting violently as it was, but maybe just a bit longer would be okay. The Master nodded, sighing contentedly against her chest.

“Yes, Doctor.” 

Missy tensed up briefly before willing herself to relax. 

She’d gotten herself into this. Besides, she remembered everything he was about to go through when she inevitably dropped him back off. He deserved to think the Doctor would do this for him, that he cared about him, even if just for a few hours. 

He didn’t need to know it was only self care.

It wasn’t like he’d remember it anyway. Missy didn’t remember this happening at all, so she knew he wouldn't retain any of it. Better to let him enjoy it for now.

She held him closer and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

“Good boy.”