Doctor Who: Panic Moon- A New Story

His grin left her in no doubt: he knew how close she was. How could he know that? He had stopped her, just a moment, just a -- before she had reached her peak... How had he known?

'Show me your fingers,' The Doctor grunted, eyes hitting hers as, for the first time since she had begun, he lifted his gaze from her body. They were old eyes, she saw it for the first time. Experienced eyes, bound to an owner not used to being disobeyed in this context. What had she gotten herself into?

Trembling fingers withdrew, and she held them up for his inspection. Her eyes went wide; they glistened in the warm light of the control room, a bead of her sticky fluid dripping down the palm of her hand. This was really the first time she had done anything like this, in a life that had previously been content to have sex mainly with the lights off. She noticed her legs had squeezed together the moment she had withdrawn her fingers, and that the Doctor's eyes were still burning into hers. Cool, yet alive with desire. This was going to be a day of firsts, she could tell.

'Well, what are you waiting for?' His voice cracked the silence, actually making her jump at the suddenness of it. 'Clean your fingers, Pond.'

She blinked. The only cloth she had available was her dress- and a pang of guilt swept through her at that thought... her poor wedding dress- and she damn well wasn't going to use that. She spoke up, voice unsteady, 'Um, how do I d-do that, Doctor?'

He rolled his eyes, 'You use your tongue, Pond! Honestly, do I have to teach you humans -- I mean, some things are quite fun to teach you people, and in those cases I'm all for education, but this is elementary stuff.'

Her eyes swept her moist fingers, then returned to the Doctor, 'Doctor, I-'

'Do it,' His voice brooked no opposition. 'Or don't you want to have fun anymore, Pond? Am I no longer your object of --

With a tiny, breathless whimper, she brought her fingers to her mouth, tongue poking from between her lips just enough for the tips of both fingers and tongue to meet. The taste wasn't particularly strong or unpleasant, and under the Doctor's ironclad gaze, she found herself sweeping her tongue along the glistening digits, lapping up the evidence of her own arousal, while her best friend watched. On her wedding day. While her husband awaited her return literally a few meters away.

--

'Good,' Her Raggedy Doctor was almost unrecognizable now, as he stepped over to her, taking hold of her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth, 'One last chance, human. Walk away, if you think you're not good enough for my --'

She could have, she knew he'd let her if she walked away, even if she -- walk away with her dress ruined like it was. Maybe he even had some miraculous device for fixing ruined clothes around this place, and she had no doubt that somewhere in the TARDIS wardrobe was an exact duplicate of the dress she was... -- wearing now. But her body throbbed, she had been so close... He had been watching her, and she had gotten so close it had -- to move her fingers, the barest edge of the wave had tingled at her body like sea foam on the shore. And he could do it again, and make it last. She could see it in his eyes. She...

Oh god, she -- it...

'Show me, Doctor.'

His eyes narrowed, and for the first time he touched her more intimately; just one finger, drawing up the inside of her thigh. He let it draw on, so close she could feel the heat of his body, the occasional scrape of his trousers against her bare leg, and that finger... tickling at her skin, higher and higher, almost unbearably good. How? His eyes promised so much, seemed to say, "look what I can do with just one finger, Pond..."

Hell, when a stare seems to be calling you by name, you -- it's going to be good...

'Beg me,' His voice scraped against her consciousness,that finger withdrawing, just before it hit the place that mattered. She had allowed it to get -- high, without even noticing? 'I'm not entirely convinced yet.'

'Please,' The word escaped her mouth only seconds later, tumbling from her lips before she had time to even think about it. 'Doctor, please. Please show me... I want to see it. -- Doctor...'

Silently, his hands clasped her shoulders, his grasp firm but gentle as he turned her around and, with a single finger between her shoulder blades, bade her to bend over. She shook nervously as she did so, a feeling which only intensified as she felt her ass- still mercifully clad in the remains of her wedding dress- press against his hips. She felt his hardness there, and even the merest grazing touch of it scared her a little; he was an alien, after all. She had no idea what he was packing down there, and by agreeing to this... She got the feeling he wouldn't simply allow her to back out so easily now that she had agreed, --, for him to do this.

He leaned over her, over the myriad buttons and levers on the TARDIS' console, and guided the wrist he still had hold of up over her head. Her bare breasts pressed against the cool, strange feeling metal of the console, and she could feel an odd, thrumming beat coming from within the thing, a vibration akin to a heartbeat. It wasn't hers, though she could certainly feel that well enough, as hard as it was, but it was definitely perceptible. She felt her nipples rub against the console altogether pleasurably as he stretched her arm up and pressed her palm against the central column.

'Do not move your hand,' He instructed, doing the same with her other hand. She had never felt more open and exposed, half naked with her arms effectively out of her control. She shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other, and jumped again when she heard a ripping noise.

'Hold still, Pond,' She squeaked as he slapped her lightly on the ass, dangling the long white strip of her dress before her eyes before sidling up against her further, wrapping it tightly around one wrist, before looping it through a handhold at the top of the console, and then around her other wrist. Apparently, Time Lords are rather good with knots- or perhaps it was just the Doctor? What did that say about him?- because Amy soon found herself secured rather tightly to the console, unable to move or stand up, her bottom and what lay below it raised and accessible to her frightening, suddenly powerful Doctor.

She could feel a warm trickle of arousal down the inside of her thigh, something that the dull throb of the tightness of her bondage seemed only to enhance. The Doctor knew what he was doing; her circulation wasn't -- cut off, but it was tight enough that she would feel it constantly, no matter... no matter-- he did to her now. It would always be present in her mind.

'You waited for me for fourteen years, Pond...' He was growling in her ear, he was so close to her. He'd never been this close; his hand was resting just above the curve of her butt. The gesture was oddly possessive, the way his fingers dug, just gently, into her skin, 'So tell me truthfully: ever think of me like this? Before I came back, I mean. Was the good ol' Raggedy Doctor responsible for little Amelia Pond's sexual awakening? How many times? How many times were you alone in the dark, only I was there with you?'

'Y-yes...' She whimpered, crying out as his hand pointedly impacted with her behind again. 'Yes, Doctor, I have...'

'Aww,' He tousled her hair, chuckling. 'Well... You've been the Girl Who Waited for fourteen years. I think you've waited about long enough!'

To punctuate his words, he drew back his hand, the back of her dress coming away with it. The sound of fabric tearing almost echoed through the control room. She couldn't even gasp anymore; of course this was coming. He seemed to enjoy systematically destroying her wedding dress, as though it were a symbol; as he was stripping her, he was removing pieces of Leadworth and her old life from her too. When she was bare, here in the TARDIS, what would that make her? Would she even want to step out of those doors back into the sleepy little town beyond?

Her thighs shuddered as she felt his fingers finally trace down her now bare bottom to their goal, stroking at her warm, sticky lips. She trembled, found herself pressing her hips down on his hand, even as guilt rose horrifically in her chest. She had to speak up.

'Doctor,' She began, biting her lip. His fingers felt so good... 'It's my wedding night tonight...'

'Oh, I know,' He nodded in an exaggerated fashion. 'And yet here you are. Funny how things work out eh, Pond? Oh, but don't worry,' His fingers skirted her lips, making her moan involuntarily. 'I don't intend to spoil anything for Rory. No, not at all...'

With that, his hand left her aching pussy in an entirely whine-inducing way. She had been so -- Yet she whimpered as his fingers trailed across her skin, higher and higher, up the curve of her ass, before sliding between her cheeks. She stiffened, voice choking in her throat.

'Doctor, no...' She was still dripping, still shaking below him, but her arms pulled at her bindings, to very little effect besides making her wrists ache. 'I've never, um, done that...'

'There's a first time for everything, Pond,' He chided. 'Isn't that something I've taught you over and over, in our travels? Besides... You're dripping, Pond. You -- it.'

The heat of his palm on her bottom was electric, making her bite her lip as he parted her cheeks, exposing her most private area. Just a single finger touched it, and she lurched forward, groaning loudly. Oh god, how could she deny it, he was right there... He could see right through her, she was sure.

'Doctor...' She moaned, looking back over her shoulder at him. He shook his head, more entranced by the sway of her hips, and momentarily arched an eyebrow at her.

'Eyes forward, Pond,' He said simply, and she obeyed. Something in her bent and buckled to whatever he desired. She had never been this way before, -- Even with Rory, she had been the assertive one... But then, Rory wasn't exactly, um... He was no Doctor, that was for sure.

But then, maybe that had been why she had fallen for him. The Doctor, her Raggedy Doctor, had breezed into her life and made such an impression on her over the course of a single night... and then he had left. And despite her mind's staunch and stubborn belief that he wasn't simply a midnight dream that had indented itself in her imagination, some part of her must have resented the abandonment, no matter how buried.

Along came Rory, and he -- left her, even when she might have deserved it. Along came Rory, so shy around her, so willing to follow her anywhere... so full of love for her. So -- Maybe it was no wonder she had fallen for him, just as it was no wonder that the idolizing side of her had kept the Doctor in her mind, and had made him such a target for her advances on the night before her wedding- just -- she reminded herself- in that moment of weakness, with her barely averted death still swimming through her mind.

But, she reminded herself, as she felt the Doctor's weight pressed against her, Rory wasn't here. Granted, she could go on and on about whose fault that actually was, but at the moment the man behind her pushed forward and slid, without any real degree of care, into her, that thought lost any meaning.

She exhaled sharply at the pain of it, but his hand was on the back of her neck, keeping her head facing forward, eyes open and staring at the knots anchoring her hands before her. It was all she could do to concentrate on relaxing, and easing the strain this act could cause her.

'How's that, Pond?' The Time Lord grunted, fingers tight on her hips. 'Is it everything you'd hoped for?'

'Y-ye... Ah!' She tried to answer, but the words were torn from her mouth as he made his final push, burying himself inside her. He didn't seem to mind. He was still talking.

'All those little flirty looks, teasing little hints, like I was crazy for -- wanting you...' He growled, as he began to move inside her. 'And yet every night, -- you touched yourself thinking of me. Oh yeah, I --, Pond. I've -- what you think about... You're a properly depraved slut, aren't you?'

'N-not a slut...' She groaned, her voice unstable as she bounced against the console, nipples dragging against the cool surface. She was panting now, properly panting with exertion in a way she hadn't for years. With Rory everything was gentle and loving, and it hadn't prepared her for this. -- was rougher that she ever could have dreamed... This was Time Lord sex.

'Yeah, you are,' The Doctor grunted. 'Because here you are, on your -- with another man inside you. What else would you call that, hmm?'

She didn't answer, merely gritting her teeth against his ever more forceful strokes and trying to contain the odd pressures that were building in the pit of her stomach, making her ever wetter...

'Say it,' The Time Lord's voice snapped her out of her reverie. She felt his fingers twist through her hair, pulling her head back. '--'

'What?' Irritation flooded her, and she tried to turn her head to catch his gaze. His fingers only squeezed tighter, keeping her in place. 'No. I'm not into that, Doctor.'

'And here you are on your wedding day, with another man inside you. Keep up that line if you must,' He stopped moving, actually stepped away from her. His shoes clacked on the floor with each step, the sound filling the room in the absence of any other sound but her panting, heated breath. 'Okay, fine then. Leave. Ask me to untie you, and -- Head on out to Leadworth, and your dreadfully -- husband, and I'll be on my way. Just ask, Pond. I'll be happy to oblige.'

Amy felt her teeth grind together, anger rising in her, cheeks flushed at the situation she found herself in. What had he -- to her? Her entire body throbbed, aching with want, skin seemingly on fire, gleaming with sweat, and he had been inside her for, what? A minute and a half, at best? The ache was nothing compared to the curiosity; the desire to see what else he could do. Ninety seconds had turned her into a sweating, dripping pool of hormones and lust. Merely a touch on her bare skin, loaded with purposeful, directed sexual energy, had allowed him to tear her -- to shreds and tie her up for the first time in her life. What would he do, if given free reign?

Besides which, her body cried out. It wanted something far more primal than her conscious mind would admit. His eyes...

'I...' She sniffled, tears prickling at her eyes; is that what she was? Really? Hard to deny, bent over and begging like this... 'I'm a s-slut...'

'I'm sorry?' He was whispering in her ear. How did he get so close? 'My hearing isn't what it used to be, Pond. Nine hundred years and all that. What did you say?'

'I'm a slut, Doctor!' Her voice spilled out, high and reedy, filling the high, vaulted ceilings with the admission. To her mind, it sunk into the walls of the time machine, engraved there forever; the Doctor had told her that the TARDIS was alive, was it that much of a stretch to believe that it -- 'I -- be...' She whimpered.

'Good girl, Pond,' She could feel him smiling, and she grunted as he stepped back up to, and inside, her. 'Honesty is a trait I favour in my companions, after all.'

And then there was silence, broken only by the sound of their breathing, laboured and unsteady, as he worked within her, and she took everything he had to give. His touch provoked a change deep in her, turned her passive... no, accommodating-- Open to him. Almost to the point of madness; past the pain, past even the pleasure that filled her body until it almost burst, she wouldn't- -- move, or back down, or even tell him to stop. She panted and moaned, heard her mouth begging for more even as her vision began to blur and her legs failed, dropping her abdomen hard against the edge of the console. She wanted more, even though he felt like he was going to tear her apart with it.

It was with a distinct sense of apprehension that Amy realized something; as intense as this was, she wasn't anywhere near close to orgasm yet.

... How much longer could she -- this, anyway?

'Does my little slut want to cum, eh?' Amy's eyes widened; she could -- him rifling around in her head, plucking out her base desires and examining them under a microscope. -- She whimpered, the sound rising desperately into a terribly out of control moan as his length sliced through a sensitive spot inside her, sending another spasm of nerve-shredding pleasure through her.

She couldn't even -- him, for god's sake...

'Well, no problem...' His voice was silk, white and gold, sliding through her like nothing else. Knowing, wise, regal... not trustworthy, but it -- respect, almost bordering on fear.

She felt the sound before she heard it. She screamed. She stopped screaming, as her voice petered out into silence. Her mouth was still open.

Amy didn't even need to look down; the buzz filled her up better than anything else. He had pressed his sonic screwdriver to her sopping, aching pussy, and it had lit her up like a bonfire. The nerves of her clit twanged and reverberated to its frequency, sensation shrieking through her with the force of running headlong into a concrete block. She couldn't breathe, couldn't see through her tears, couldn't feel anything but the heat in her skin... not even pleasure. The sensation transcended that, dragging her kicking and screaming toward climax without even a warm glow to comfort her. So close...

She gagged on the lump in her throat, yelling in incoherent frustration as the sonic device was withdrawn, causing her entire body to shudder as it was released from the grip of sheer sensation. Her tongue still felt useless in her mouth, good only for directing her breathless, uninhibited moans, but she hoped to add a vaguely questioning tone as the Doctor continued to drive in and out of her.

'No, no,' The Doctor hissed, hands now roaming her body, squeezing at her soft and supple flesh, pale in the cool mechanical light of the TARDIS. 'It's not going to be easy for you. You want it, you -- After all... not many humans are honoured with what you're experiencing.'

It had been only a few moments, and she had been -- at the time, but... as the pain of the Doctor's forceful thrusts returned to her, she found herself distanced from the climax that had been brewing within her. It slipped from her grasp, the merest edge of it touching her, and the heat of even that immense, unlike anything else she had ever felt. A shudder, deep and heavy, rippled down her spine, a contraction in her mind; what else was she but his? What else had she ever been, waiting fourteen years for him, like her life was nothing but a holding pattern and now he was here... And what else was she?

Just a stupid human girl, bowed over and practically cowering before the powerful Time Lord.

The sound, the buzz, rang out again and again, to her mind as loud as a hammer ringing out on an anvil, crashing in her ears. Or was that the beat of her heart? It was a cycle that seemed to stretch out for eternity; the screwdriver would lightly touch her groin, and she would surge upward, all fire and breathless, gasping screams. She was like jelly, melting down, shivering and writhing in her bonds, and -- as her orgasm was within her grasp, the source of her bone rattling pleasure would be torn away. And she would yell in mindless frustration. And the Doctor would --

Over and over he did it, manipulating her body with masterful precision, beating down any chance at coherency she had, leaving her so wild and desperate with need that all she could do was press her hips back against the Doctor and moan unintelligibly. He worked within her, hands all over her body, sometimes gliding over her breasts, fingers squeezing at her thighs, wound up in her hair, drinking her in with every sense. It was pure sensation; she could barely even feel her own body anymore. Everything was numb, yet somehow still burning hot.