Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 04

Once back on the ground floor, Sander led his stripped slave out into the public arena. If the corridors around the private suites were empty, the public areas were where all those people had gone to. The floor squirmed with activity; a variety of adult-oriented entertainment at one's fingertips. The dance floor was in full swing, but that wasn't where the action was at; slaves were everywhere, in any number of positions, doing any number of lewd things. Some were chained to the walls, enduring whatever tortures their masters could devise. Others still were... well, it was a visually complicated scene.

Even with all that was going on, a large number of eyes slid to regard Amy appraisingly as she entered the room. It was rare that a newcomer was allowed into Shangri-La, and any fresh meat was cause to stare. And this new slave was obviously new at the entire slavery game.

Amy shrank away from the room, eyes wide with horror at the acts she was witnessing. Faced with lustful gazes of most of the room, Amy's hands felt like they didn't cover nearly enough. Sander whispered a command.

Her hands lowered to her sides, prompting a storm of hoots and cheers from the crowd. Suddenly exposed, Amy's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red. Tears welled in her stinging eyes, and she sobbed thickly. Nothing in her life previously could have prepared her for being exposed like this in front of so many strangers, thousands of light-years- and the regular kind- from home. Her evident humiliation only made the crowd more enthusiastic. Sander began to get offers shouted from the mass for some "private time," with Amy. She whimpered, and stared at Sander in horror.

'Sorry, gentlemen. She's not for sale just yet. Maybe later, we'll see how my fancy strikes. But enjoy the visuals, by all means.' He winked at the crowd, prompting scattered applause. Nevertheless, he took her in a wide arc, away from the crowd, to avoid their pawing, eager hands.

At the far end of the room was a sort of alleyway, one wall playing host to numerous black doors. Sander selected a door at random. Inside was a small booth, large enough for a single person. There was a hole in one wall, beyond which could be heard the sounds of the city.

'Oh, you have got to be kidding me!' Amy shouted.

'I take it you know how this works, then? Well, to ensure cooperation... Command: suck the cocks that come through the hole. And... try to have fun,' Sander smiled, closing the door on her. There was a tiny click as it locked. Amy found herself sinking to her knees, face level with the hole. She wished Sander hadn't added that last part; she was salivating at the thought of what she was to do, regardless of how repulsive the thought actually was.

Sander slipped around to the other side of the booth. He knew he had promised Mara that he would control himself until she came back, but what the hell. He was her boss, not the other way around. This section of the club was open to the public, but only slightly. A door at one end of the hall let in the outside world, but the door Sander had to pass through would only work with a keycard. These booths were for a special kind of exhibitionism.

Besides, this was also a relatively low-impact game to play. Sander was cognizant of the fact that Amy was still recovering from her ordeal. He had resolved to go easy on her for a while. Shangri-La was notoriously tough on its slaves, and Sander felt he had plenty of time to ease her into that. For now it was best to allow her to fully recover her strength. She would need it.

Amy found she could look through the hole, giving her limited warning as to who was approaching. So she saw that it was Sander coming to her first. She rolled her eyes as her captor lined himself up with the hole and poked his junk through. Unbidden, her tongue shot out, licking at the head as her mouth engulfed this familiar dick.

Amy's head bobbed rapidly on Sanders hardening prick, hoping that he would cum quickly, tire of this game and let her out of the booth. Spending hours at a time on her knees getting her face fucked didn't exactly appeal to her. Outside, she could hear Sander groan appreciatively as her tongue slid along the underside of his cock. She remembered that he liked that.

For Sander, having Amy suck him off was just a way to relieve the tension that had been building inside him as he forced her to expose herself. He had been all distracted and... well, hard, for a long time, and he didn't expect that he would last particularly long this time. That wasn't a problem, given that the whole point of the booth exercise was to force Amy onto many strange cocks, rather than his own.

He allowed Amy to slurp up the length of his cock for a few minutes more, before letting go and unloading into her mouth. Amy moaned as the first spray of cum hit the back of her throat, and tried to pull away. The collar wouldn't allow that, and she had no choice but to swallow Sander's copious seed.

His softening cock slid from her lips and out through the hole. Amy growled at him in frustration and opened her mouth to say something through the hole, when suddenly his face appeared on the other side.

'Actually, this is probably a good idea,' He said. 'Command: Do not attempt to speak with or reveal your identity to anyone outside the booth. Just a little safety measure.' He called that last part over his shoulder as he rapidly retreated into the member's only area.

As the door slammed shut behind him, Sander exhaled explosively, 'Well, that was fun!' He exclaimed.

Amy peeked out through the hole, then suddenly found herself jerking back away from the opening. She hadn't told herself to do that; it was the collar working, and Amy knew why.

'Oh, you have really, really got to be kidding me...' She lilted in her lovely Scottish accent. She closed her eyes and hoped that it wasn't true.

Outside, in the hallway, looking around himself furtively, was the Doctor.

Sometimes, it seemed as though the universe worked to certain narrative rules. The young hero will always fall in love with his female opposite, the heroine can never die, and there was absolutely no chance that the Doctor, with his hand loosening his belt, will ever pick a booth other than the one Amy was in.

Even as the Doctor's dick slid through the hole, Amy couldn't help but feel a little offended. He was supposed to be rescuing her, not trying to get laid in a brothel city! The Doctor had always gotten distracted at crucial moments, but this was fucking ridiculous! She had waited twelve years for him once, and now this? The girl who bloody well waited, indeed!

Amy's jaw clamped shut when she tried to call out. Her body froze when she tried to signal. Moments passed as she struggled with the Command Collar. She was so close! He was right. Fucking. There! This was horrible!

'Hey, hurry up in there,' That achingly familiar voice called out through the thin wall. Amy glared. Still, she found her lips craning forward to take the -surprisingly thick- head of his cock into her mouth.

Amy contemplated other ways to signal to the Doctor. How, precisely, did one communicate with someone while simultaneously lapping at his cock? She supposed she could trace the words "SOS," on the underside of his dick with her tongue... No, that's stupid...

Once the hopelessness of the situation had reasserted itself, Amy realized just what she was doing. She remembered the time she had tried to seduce the Doctor, back in Leadworth. But that was different. That was a world away from being forced to service him in complete anonymity. This was utterly humiliating.

She choked back a sob, or rather, the Doctor's prick did, as it hit the back of her throat. She was having trouble taking all of him into her mouth, but the collar compelled her forward regardless. Her teeth grazed at his sensitive skin, causing a long moan from the other side of the wall.

Her head bobbed mechanically as her mind swirled in a storm of thought. On the one hand, the cock in her mouth belonged to the Doctor. Her Doctor. The one she had waited for since childhood. She had wanted to do this to him more often than she cared to admit.

On the other hand, it was the Doctor. Her friend, who had saved her countless times. Who had rejected her advances in Leadworth, and with good reason; she was married! And Rory... Where was he in all this? Had they split up to search the city, or was he back in the TARDIS? Getting fucked by Sander and Mara, that had been enough of a violation of her wedding vows. But the Doctor was something else. The entire, confused history that the three of them shared, that made this far, far worse.

Her head filled with images of escape, of somehow getting loose from the collar's control. The Doctor was right outside, for god's sake! But there was no way to get to him. The collar's control was absolute, and it made her suck harder, slid her lips over him more energetically. It made her tongue move and twist around the thick piece of meat in her mouth, coating it in her saliva. She had never given a blowjob like this before.

The Doctor began thrusting deeper into her mouth through the hole. Amy had never deep-throated before -she had never needed to- but the Command Collar didn't exactly take that into consideration. She had no idea what kind of intelligence was driving the thing, but it seemed to force her into the least desirable course of action. She groaned in panic, her eyes widening as her pink lips slid progressively further down the Doctor's shaft. She felt the head of his dick hit the back of her throat, and she gagged, yet still the collar compelled her to go deeper.

Over the course of several seconds, Amy's mouth was forced down, lower and lower, until the entire length of the Doctor's penis was in her. Her throat convulsed as her gag reflex went into overdrive, drawing long, shuddering moans from her. Amy concentrated on breathing through her nose as she began to move again, diving down the full length of his shaft again and again. Her throat burned from the repeated violation, and she coughed and spluttered even as she continued blowing the Doctor. The collar wouldn't allow her to stop.

Suddenly, she drew back, the tip of the Doctor's cock resting on her tongue. There was a moan from the other side of the partition, as a jet of cum landed on her tongue. Amy was left in little doubt of a single fact; Time Lord semen was different from the human variety. It was thinner, like water, and tasted... sort of sweet, in a vague, indefinable way.

The Doctor came copiously, and Amy wasn't prepared for the sheer volume of the deluge. She swallowed rapidly, desperately, as it filled what remained of her mouth to be filled.

The Doctor finished, pulling out of her mouth. She lapped enthusiastically at the tip of his prick, licking every last drop of cum from the softening head. She cursed the collar for making her do that, her eyes moistening at the implication of what she had just done.

She tried, once more, to wrench herself free of the collar and call out. It would only take the slightest sound, just one word, to alert him to her presence. But her mouth clamped shut, and she whined in frustration. Was this nightmare ever going to end? Sander had said that the Doctor had lost many friends, and that he had forgotten them all. Given what had just happened, it seemed as if he had forgotten her.

In the tiny, dim booth, time meant very little. Amy couldn't tell if she had been on her knees for a few minutes, or several hours. An endless procession of faceless, anonymous men came for her services, a seemingly unlimited supply of cocks in every shape and size. The collar was merciless and uncaring; she sucked every dick that came through the opening, growing progressively more resigned and exhausted. She swallowed every time, the collar forcing her lips into such a tight, sucking seal that nothing escaped it. Her throat grew raw, her jaw ached, and her mind descended into a bland haze of exhaustion.

When the final prick slipped out of the hole, and the booth door slid open, she barely registered it. Her eyes were half-closed, and she was drawing deep, shaking breaths through her mouth. In the dim cell, exhausted and kneeling, utterly naked, Amy possessed a ragged, worn-out kind of beauty that made the figure at the door break out in a wide grin.

Amy turned, but the figure was lit from behind and appeared to Amy only as a silhouette. This kind of dignified, showy anonymity didn't last long.

'What up, sweetheart?' Mara giggled, her white teeth gleaming in the low light. She stepped into the booth, looking resplendent in a deep red dress that flowed around her like liquid. The neckline plunged, her soft, strawberry blonde hair falling around her in a shroud. Behind her, Sander leant against the wall, grinning inanely. It was clear that he had been hitting the bar, in that he swayed constantly and seemed to be giggling under his breath.

Like Sander, Mara was wearing a mask; hers was white and covered her eyes, curving lines like fangs following the edge of her face down to her jaw. Unlike Sander, she was still able to see straight, and didn't smell like a distillery. She possessed enough manual dexterity to bend down and extend a red-gloved hand to Amy, gesturing to indicate that she would help her up off the floor.

'C'mon. Game's over. If he stays out in public much longer,' Mara jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the inebriated Sander. 'He'll probably get into some trouble, or get killed. Or both, most likely. The point is, I'm back, baby.'

Amy was too tired, her legs too sore, to snap at her captors, or assert her independence by pulling herself up. She took Mara's hand gratefully and grunted with discomfort as she was pulled bodily to her feet. Her bare thighs quivered, and she moved to cover her nudity once more.

Mara shook her head, 'Come off it, Amy. We're all past that now. From what Sander has been telling me, everyone outside at the bar is past it. Show it if you got it, that's what I say.'

'That's easy for you to say,' Amy pouted in a breathless, faded way. She really was tired. 'You aren't wearing the collar.'

Mara nodded, 'I wore the first one. Well, I tested the prototype to come out of our manufacturing facility. It's kind of creepy, isn't it?'

Amy nodded back, as emphatically as she could, making Mara laugh. Sander laughed too, but it wasn't entirely clear whether he even knew what was going on. Mara turned to him with an exasperated look, and rolled her eyes.

'Seriously though, we'd better get him out of here. You too, I suppose, before someone out there gets drunk enough to try their luck. I don't know what Sander was thinking; we agreed to leave you alone until I got back,' Mara sighed. ' And then he leaves you all alone in there, and gets plastered? Anything could have happened to you! Well, whatever... Come on.'

'So, what happens next?'

Mara smiled, this time only looking a little like a shark facing down a baby seal, 'Well, we still have a couple of days here in Chroma. We can take it easy tonight. Tomorrow, well...' Mara stared at Amy, her eyes glinting. 'That's when the fun begins.'