DOCTOR WHO fucks

The council table in Themyscira was a grand and imposing structure, befitting the island's rich history and powerful inhabitants. Carved from a single, massive slab of obsidian, it dominated the center of the council chamber, its dark, polished surface reflecting the flickering torchlight that illuminated the room. The council members watched in silence as their Queen, their leader, debased herself before this strange and powerful man. The Queen seating The master's cock, lost in the throes of passion, moaned and cried out, her voice echoing through the chamber. "Mmmh! Mmmh! How many of my warriors do you want?" she gasped, her breath coming in ragged bursts. The Master, his face a mask of cold detachment, replied in a low, measured tone. "If I said every one of them, would that be a problem?"

The Queen, her eyes glazed with desire, shook her head, her dark hair swirling around her shoulders. "No, no, not at all," she whispered, her voice thick with lust.

In the council chamber's hushed silence, the master struck a deal with a sultry kiss, his voice a velvet promise, "Okay, 100 of your warriors for today." The queen, her lips still tingling from their exchange, agreed with a fiery hunger in her eyes, "Give it to me, then it is a deal." With a swift motion, the master laid her back on the polished table, his movements deliberate as he took her with an intensity that left them both breathless, their bodies a testament to their primal pact. "Yes, Yes, Masterrr," the queen's cries echoed, her body responding to the master's every thrust, the sensation building to an unstoppable crescendo. As the master's release came, the queen's eyes glowed with an ethereal gold, marking the exchange of power between them. The master, awed by this new manifestation of his abilities, grinned, his mind already whirling with possibilities. In the shadows, the council members, aroused by the display, indulged in their own desires, their eyes never leaving the master and the queen. The air was thick with the scent of sex and the anticipation of the power shift. "AAh!, You can have them," the queen declared, satiated and spent, yet triumphant in her decision. Outside, the 100 amazonian warriors, led by Kleodora, encircled the TARDIS with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. The master, with a flourish of his coat, beckoned them forward, "Ladies, shall we go?" Kleodora, her eyes locked with his, challenged, "Where, in that small thing?" His response was a confident smirk, "To conquer the future." As they stepped into the TARDIS, their leader marveled at the impossible vastness within, her words a blend of awe and intrigue, "Wow, It's bigger on the inside, what kind of a man are you?" The master, recalling their previous encounter, replied with a dark chuckle, "You know, what, I think I haven't fucked you,after you beat me" and with that, he pulled down the lever, and the TARDIS hummed to life, ready to catapult them all.

The TARDIS materialized on the Space Valkyries' space station, a colossal structure floating in the silent void of space. The station's design was both utilitarian and majestic, with massive docking bays, sleek metallic spires, and shimmering shields that pulsed with an iridescent glow. Its vast corridors stretched endlessly, filled with the hum of machinery and the soft, rhythmic vibrations of the station's core engines.

From the control room, Lysandra watched intently as the TARDIS materialized, its iconic wheezing and groaning sound echoing through the station's halls. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed the shimmering blue box solidify in the central plaza. Moments later, the sound of marching boots resonated through the station—100 Amazonian warriors, their armor glinting under the artificial lights, moving with disciplined precision toward the TARDIS.

In the Space Valkyries' council chamber, an immense circular table dominated the room. Around it sat the 14 Space Valkyries, their presence commanding and their armor forged from a blend of star-forged metals. Behind them, the 100 Amazonian warriors stood at attention, their expressions resolute. The chamber was alive with tension and anticipation as the Master stepped forward.

"Lysandra," the Master began, his voice smooth and self-assured, "as promised, I brought you more warriors. Train each other. Sharpen each other's skills."

Lysandra exchanged a wary glance with Kleodara, the leader of the Amazonians. There was an unspoken unease between them, a tension that rippled beneath the surface.

The Master smirked, sensing their hesitation. "After I recruit the Daleks, my conquest of the universe shall begin," he declared, his tone brimming with sinister confidence. With that, he turned on his heel and began striding toward the chamber's exit.

Lysandra called after him, her voice tinged with desperation. "Doctor, you're leaving us… again. But… but we need you."

The Master paused briefly, glancing over his shoulder. "I shall leave you with the Cybermen," he said coolly. "Do to them as you please."

As the TARDIS began to dematerialize, the unmistakable hum of Cybermen teleporting filled the air. Gleaming metallic figures began to appear in the chamber, their cold, expressionless faces scanning the room. The Amazonian warriors and Space Valkyries immediately tensed, readying themselves for what came next.

The TARDIS materialized above Skaro's atmosphere, a planet bathed in perpetual twilight and the oppressive glow of its industrialized surface. Below, the Dalek Empire stretched across the horizon, its towering spires bristling with weaponry, factories churning smoke, and assembly lines producing new ranks of Daleks at an alarming rate. Skaro was the pinnacle of their power, a grim testament to their relentless pursuit of universal domination.

Almost immediately, the Daleks detected the arrival of the TARDIS. Their shrill, mechanical voices erupted across the communication channels.

"THE TARDIS DETECTED! THE DOCTOR DETECTED! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!"

A swarm of Daleks rose into the air, their blasters charging and firing relentlessly at the TARDIS. Beams of deadly energy streaked through the sky, narrowly missing the blue box as it twisted and turned, evading their attacks with erratic movements. The TARDIS seemed to dance through the chaos, its flickering light defying the overwhelming odds.

Inside, the Master stood at the console, grinning maniacally. He threw open the TARDIS doors mid-flight, the rushing air swirling around him as he leaned out precariously. "The Doctor is your Master!" he shouted, his voice amplified by the TARDIS systems.

The words echoed across the battlefield, activating a hidden backdoor in the Daleks' consciousness—a secret programming buried deep within their neural frameworks. The Daleks halted their assault, their blasters lowering as they processed the command.

"THE DOCTOR IS OUR MASTER. THE DOCTOR IS OUR MASTER. THE DOCTOR IS OUR MASTER," they chanted in unison, their mechanical voices resonating with eerie synchronicity.

The Master's grin widened as he raised his sonic screwdriver. With a sharp, concentrated beam, he triggered a chain reaction. One by one, millions of Daleks began to dematerialize, their forms dissolving into shimmering particles and vanishing into the void. The once-bustling skies of Skaro grew silent, the oppressive hum of Dalek engines replaced by an eerie calm.