Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 02

Both the planet and its moon were rising, from the perspective of the asteroid. It painted the interior of the lab in soft white light, which Shimizu admired from her seat by the window. Her eyes had a dreamy, relaxed look about them as her mind wandered over the events of the last hour. As it finally settled on the image of Amy, bound naked in the other room. They had moved her, of course, but that image had looked too good for Shimizu to want to give up in a hurry.

Mara, on the other hand, was absorbed in the contents of a grey metal tray on the central lab bench. She leaned over the low standing bench, her long blonde hair falling like a golden curtain around her face. The device fascinated her, and her blue eyes searched every angle of it, short of actually touching it or picking it up. Her slightly upturned nose crinkled as her soft mouth split into a wide grin.

'So... that's it, huh?' She said, scratching the back of her head.

'The fabrication took less time than we thought,' Shimizu answered without turning her head from the cosmos beyond the glass. 'Of course, it's up to the boss as to when we actually use the thing. I wouldn't blame him if he wanted to hold off for a while.'

'Well, sure,' Mara turned to a large screen that dominated the far wall. 'Seems like the good Doctor is still chasing a dead end. Whatever keeps him busy, I guess.'

On the screen, a stylized map of the universe spread out from one end to the other. A complex breadcrumb trail snaked its way across every inch of the map, and at one end a cartoon police box, a little chibi-TARDIS, was slowly following it. At the far end of the map, separate from the false trail, cartoon representation of Mara, Shimizu and Sander alternately laughed at the police box, or menaced a tiny, panicked cartoon of Amy Pond.

Sure, the map was a little silly, but it did serve a valuable purpose in depicting exactly how far along the Doctor had gotten in tracing the diverted video-link of Amy's captivity. Even in the worst-case scenario, it was still a nice early warning system.

On a second, smaller screen, surveillance footage of Amy's new cell streamed live. Technically, Mara was on guard duty right now, but it wasn't exactly like Amy had anywhere to go.

On screen, Amy was making use of the well-furnished shower, and the cameras were positioned so that no angle was impossible. A lecherous grin stole over Mara's face. It was kind of frustrating having Amy so close for her... use, but to be forbidden to act on her lust, but Sander was the man with the plan and, more importantly, the money to see it through. Mara gave a guffaw, and settled in to watch Amy's unwitting little show.

Vesperia was burning. Throughout the city, his robotic drones were failing, and the citizens were rioting. And through it all, the Doctor watched. Amid the flames, the Doctor watched.

'I tried to warn you...' he said, in a voice filled with an equal mix of pity and disappointment. Sander's hands balled into fists, yet he found himself incapable of leaping down the intruder's throat and tearing him several new ones.

His wife's phone, not even giving him her answering machine. The violent mob pounding down the doors of his house. Elsa's body, lying lifeless in the street as a news crew filmed the riot in progress. It had been a very dramatic shot.

Sander's eyes snapped open as the realization that it was, yet again, a dream, stole over him. He sat up and eyed the clock by his bedside; three in the morning. Of course, since the asteroid that Sander had built his new home on didn't strictly have a day-night cycle, the twenty-four our Terran time keeping system he used was really just a way of figuring out when he needed to sleep.

He was forced to replay his own fall from grace in his dreams every night. He had thought that it would stop once he had begun his revenge, but...

His hand swept his unruly fringe from his eyes as his other hand searched for the special panel on the wall. The screen panel filled up with light, and Sander was treated to the same footage of Amy taking a shower. His worldview immediately lightened. He might have the same recurring nightmare every night, but now he had a new toy to entertain him; one that was practically designed to keep him awake at night.

He slipped out of bed and hastily pulled on a shirt. Some signs were too obvious to ignore...

Amy Pond had awoken to find herself in a new room. She was still naked, but she was overjoyed to find that she was no longer bound to that horrible metal table. Mobility was certainly a step up from where she had been.

She sat up, still a little tender from her first meeting with Sander, and looked around. She seemed to be in a well-furnished one-room apartment. The walls and floor were the same steely grey as the other room had been, but the overall atmosphere was much improved. She was sitting on a large, soft bed (with a giant headboard that Amy eyed suspiciously. She had been around the block enough to know what could be so easily chained to headboards like that one.) The far corner featured a shower cubicle, toilet and sink lined up in a row. There was also a fridge, some kind of futuristic microwave thingy, and a wardrobe.

A needlepoint hung from one wall, depicting the words "Home Sweet... Prison Cell."

New things aside, however, Amy got up and ran for the door. It was exactly surprising that it was locked, but it had still been worth a try.

She found that she was ravenously hungry, and a quick inspection of the fridge revealed that it was full of food, the closest to hand of which was a tray of sandwiches that Amy quickly wolfed down. Hunger sated, the next item of business was trying to wash away a little of the unpleasantness of Sander's attentions.

Modesty was obviously not an option here; camera lenses watched silently from every corner of the ceiling, and besides, those three bastards had seen literally everything there was to see anyway. Amy slipped into the shower and blasted herself with a jet of relaxingly warm water.

Of course, no amount of cleaning would erase what had already happened to her, but that didn't mean that Amy wasn't going to give it a damn good try. She lounged under the water for some time, feeling as though she could maybe forget, just for a little while, the dire nature of what was outside this room.

She left the shower, wrapped in an amazingly fluffy towel, to explore the contents of the wardrobe. Part of her hoped for Narnia beyond the aluminum doors, but what she found was racks upon racks of clothes. The selection was deeply disappointing; from Amy's perspective, but she could see how Sander's mind was working.

These clothes were designed to be torn off in a fit of passion. To be tied around wrists, or wadded up and stuck in mouths. They were designed for sex, basically.

There was lingerie en masse, racks heaped high with rack-revealing shirts, rows of fuck-me heels, everything an (admittedly high-class) escort could want.

Feeling that revealing clothes were better than no clothes at all, Amy delved into the wardrobe and came up with something halfway protective to wear. When she was done, she inspected herself in the floor-length mirror beside the wardrobe.

'Not bad...' She sighed quietly. Finding underwear that wasn't revealing had been an exercise in futility, so she hadn't even tried. She had thrown on the simplest black lingerie she could find, and simply hoped she could escape without being forced to show it off. A black skirt encased her hips and thighs, billowing around her knees in a way that practically asked for it to be hiked up over her hips. Her breasts had been squeezed into a tight, midriff-baring crimson top, and she had found a long coat with a strange feeling, yet luxurious, fur interior that at least protected some of her modesty when she wrapped it around herself. She remained barefoot, refusing to even try to squeeze into those heels, and her long red hair fell, still wet from the shower, around her shoulders.

Looking in the mirror, Amy could freely admit that the outfit made her look hot as hell, but she recognized that "hot" was something of an undesired effect around here. Whoever this Sander fellow was, he had good taste. He had probably picked these clothes especially for her.

Suddenly, there was movement outside the door. Amy's eyes narrowed as she wheeled around. Someone was coming in; this was her chance. A silently as she could, Amy positioned herself at the side of the door, and readied herself. She was outmatched three to one, and she probably couldn't take down Sander alone anyway, but she only needed a second to rush past him and out into the hallway, and out of the cell was better than inside.

The door slid open soundlessly, and Sander stepped into the room, his arms held wide expectantly. Amy leaped.

Out in the hallway, Sander winced as he heard the thud of a human body hitting the floor. He pushed off from the wall he was leaning against and called out into the cell, 'Cute idea, darling. But cute ideas get pretty girls like you killed, if you're not careful. That was a hologram. Keep up attacking people like that, and you can expect to see a lot of them coming in here before the genuine article. Now, are you going to play nice for daddy?'

'Fuck. You.' Came the reply. Sander laughed, and stepped into the cell. The door locked behind him.

Amy sat sprawled on the steel floor, her skirt hiked up to reveal a little more of her delicious thighs than she had intended. Her damp hair fell in front of her face, half obscuring a dark, pouty expression that struck Sander as particularly attractive.

He extended a hand to pull her to her feet, 'Nice try.'

Amy scowled and ignored his offer of help, pulling herself up against the wall, 'What do you want?'

Sander shot forward, pressed himself against her. His lips covered her own in a forceful, possessive kiss. Amy tried to push him away, but the larger man, whose hands firmly gripped her hips to keep her from wriggling out of his grasp, physically outclassed her.

The kiss broke, and Sander's eyes bored into Amy's with his curiously penetrative stare, 'You.' He said.

'You can't have me,' Amy said bitterly. It was a pointless challenge, but something in her felt she needed to offer some resistance, no matter how futile.

'You want to bet?' Sander grinned, pulling away from her to pace the floor of her cell. 'Do you like your new digs, Amy?'

'It's a step up from where you had me before,' She answered, cautiously. Now that he was away from any mention of his strange quest for revenge, Sander seemed like a different person. He seemed more relaxed, more at ease with himself. His eyes contained genuine laughter, a marked contrast from the harsh anger of their first meeting.

'Well, I couldn't keep you tied up forever, tempting as it sounds,' Sander's eyebrows wriggled suggestively. Amy almost laughed, it was so ridiculous. Sander sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, 'Amy, come here.'

Amy shook her head warily. Sander sighed in a disappointed, almost fatherly way.

'That's a pity, Amy. It really is. I had hoped that I wouldn't need to use this, but...' Sander pressed a button on a panel on his wrist. Somewhere, something beeped.

The blow caught Amy square in the pit of her stomach, and unfolded in seconds, the pain spreading through her like fire. She gasped and doubled over as the shock juddered through her. Then, as suddenly as it was upon her, it faded away.

'W-what was that?' Amy shook as normalcy returned. Sander gave her a sad little look.

'That was the Arclight Submission System. We just call it Arclight, because the acronym is... well, you get it. It's actually a modification on a system used in Supermax prisons.' Sander stretched languorously. 'It stimulates the nerves directly. What you experienced was a level two pain reaction. Our system goes up to eleven, so, you know, watch out. And it's targeted at you, dear Amy. So long as you're within the field, I can cause you pain, or-' He pressed another button.

'Ah!'

'-Pleasure at the touch of a button. Like I said, we modified the system. Oh, and by the way...' Sander grinned naughtily. 'That was a level one pleasure reaction.'

'Holy hell!' Amy panted breathlessly.

'Like I said: Watch out.' Sander laughed. He walked over and knelt down beside Amy, 'You see? I didn't design this place just to hurt you. So don't make me use it that way. It's only a temporary leash, to make you behave in the early days. Now!'

He grabbed her by the hand and gently but firmly pulled her to her feet and jumped spryly back to the bed, 'Come over here, baby.'

Amy rolled her eyes and made her way shakily over to sit at the far end of the bed from Sander. He shook his head.

'Kneel,' He said, pointing to the space between his feet.

'Oh, I can see where this is going...' Amy sighed, taking her place on her knees to stare flatly at Sander. He leaned back and took his time to enjoy the visual of the pretty redhead on her knees, looking up at him.

'You look good down there,' He nodded. 'That'll probably be a repeated position.'

'Hmm...' Amy frowned.

There was a period of expectant silence as Sander arched an eyebrow and waited. After thirty seconds, he grew impatient.

'Well? Unless you've led a more sheltered existence than I realized, you know what I want.'

'You're not going to get it.' Amy snapped.

'You have some very odd ideas about where to draw the line, Amy. One last chance, dear.'

'No.'

'Oh, dear...' Sander sighed and hit another button. Amy screamed as her vision pounded red and her veins filled with heat. 'Level three... Amy, this isn't magic. It's not sorcellations,' Sander waved his hands dramatically. 'This is science. It's precise stuff. I could kill you with this thing. Best to be good.'

Amy wasn't exactly a fan of pain, and the Arclight system went way beyond uncomfortable, but, well... She did know what Sander wanted. It was actually incredibly obvious. But even through the pain, even with the threat of more of it in her immediate future, Amy couldn't bring herself to acquiesce so easily. It was one thing to be fucked while shackled to a table; that was out of her control. This... He was asking her to actively participate. The vast majority of her mental processes cried out against it.

Sander waited for Amy to recover from the shock, and when he caught her eyes, there were tears in them. He wondered just how far he would have to take the Arclight system before she gave in; just how strong willed could she be? Still, he supposed breaking her in was part of the fun...

He tried a different tack.

This time, two buttons were pressed: the level two pain reaction, and the level three pleasure reaction. There, he thought, that should liven things up a bit.

He watched impassively as Amy began to convulse as both effects hit her simultaneously. The pain claimed her chest and ribcage for itself, seeming to her to be pushing hard against every bone inside her. The artificial orgasm seemed to race up and down her spine. Both sensations met between her legs, flowering out and twisting together into one terrifying gestalt of agony and ecstasy. She felt like she would burst, such was the intensity of the feeling. Her skin throbbed with it, every beat of her heart spreading and increasing the terrible storm of pure feeling.

It was being caressed by a lover's tongue. Torn to shreds by sharp, animal's teeth. For every agonizing, impossible to resist second, it was the heart of the world.

And then it stopped.

And then Amy was bereft, set adrift in the sudden absence of the Arclight.

And then she remembered to breathe.

She had been screaming from the moment Sander had activated the system to the moment he shut it off. Her teeth were still chattering. Her eyes were still crossed, and she was seeing stars. A series of muscles up and down her legs and stomach had cramped up from the non-stop tensing. She trembled.

'Oh my god...' Amy whimpered in a tiny voice.

'That was ten seconds, but if you'd like, I could turn it back on.' Sander said. His fingers drifted to the buttons...

'No! No, please, Sander!' Amy begged. 'Don't do it to me again. I'll die if you do it again...'

He laid a hand on her shoulder, almost tenderly, 'You know what that'll take, Amy.'

Amy hesitated, but a gesture towards the wrist panel from Sander made her nod, emphatically, desperately. She scooted closer to Sander, her fingers reached slowly for the button of his fly. Sander had gone commando. After seeing Amy in the shower, she was lucky that he had even bothered wearing pants. Hell, she was lucky he hadn't simply taken her the minute he walked in.

Her long fingers delicately took a hold of his cock and lifted it. Her large eyes gave Sander one last doe-eyed look, pleading for clemency. He stared down expectantly. She gave a little sigh, and bowed her head, craning his cock to her lips. Seconds later, she was placing the first few tentative licks to the purple head.

'Mmm...' Sander sounded appreciatively as Amy began mouthing the tip of his dick, making it harden and grow. She bent her head lower and, pressing her tongue against the base, licked the underside of his cock from bottom to tip.

Sander placed a hand on top of her head and guided her to take the tip of his dick into her mouth and pushed her down onto it. Under his insistent pressure, Amy took more and more of his hard flesh into her warm, silk-soft mouth, until his tip was resting at the back of her throat and her lips were pressed against the base of his penis, her chin against his balls, her nose nestled in his pubic hair. She gagged, and Sander allowed her to lift off of his dick.

'More like that,' he said eagerly as Amy coughed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes wearing an expression of helpless worry.

'I can't,' She whined. 'I've never done it that deep before.'

Sander laughed, 'What, dear old Rory smaller than me, huh?'

'... Yes...' Amy whispered grudgingly. She averted her eyes as her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

'Well, that's all right. You can go slow, but you can take all of me. You will, in fact, unless you want me to hit you with a level three blast.' Sander said. 'Now, come on...'

His hand threaded through her luxuriously soft hair and pulled her firmly back onto his cock. Her lips slid slowly down over his swollen flesh, a feeling that Sander relished. The visual was also extremely pleasant, as Sander watched his dick disappear into Amy's full, wet lips.

'Look at me,' He commanded, and Amy obliged, flicking her liquid brown eyes up to meet his own. Her tongue flickered and twisted around the underside of him, tickling at some extremely sensitive areas. 'Why, anyone would think you've done it before, Miss Pond. You dirty thing, you!'

Amy whined her response around his flesh, the vibration feeling like heaven as his tip lodged deeply at the back of her throat. She sucked with a desperate energy, wishing to get the ordeal over with as quickly as possible. She had a lot of strength in that sexy little mouth of hers, her sucking making delicious little slurping noises as she rounded his bell end before diving down again. Her teeth lightly grazed Sander's sensitive skin, and he didn't know how much longer he could last. He felt that familiar "cannon is loaded" sensation.

'Swallow it all, Amy,' was all the warning Sander was willing to give as his cock jerked wildly. He pulled out so that his tip rested on Amy's bottom lip as the first shot of his sticky cum splashed across her tongue. The second shot coated the back of her throat as Sander plunged back into the comforting warmth of her mouth to ride out his orgasm, shooting load after load down her throat.

When he was done, he slowly pulled his cock from her still sucking mouth, relishing the sensation as it slid against her lips. He watched appreciatively as Amy swallowed the remnants of his load, noting the revulsion that flitted across her angelic features.