Doctor Who: Panic Moon Ch. 04

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Kurokami
Kurokami
204 Followers

'Shut up, Ren,' Sander yawned, shielding his eyes from the morning light as he stepped outside, onto the large, stone balcony. Ren was lounging against a wall, looking out over the ocean. This was the reason Sander had had the thing built; he crossed the floor to the railing and propped himself against it with his elbows, retrieving his sunglasses and a cigarette from his pockets. 'I didn't spend a huge amount of time sleeping, last night.'

Ren gave a long, teasing whistle, 'Imouto-chan keeping you up, was she?'

Sander blew a stream of smoke at her in response, but said nothing. His eyes were obscured by the dark tint of his glasses, but Ren was sharp enough to catch the agitated wriggling of the fingers of his free hand, and the fact that he seemed to be chewing the end of his cigarette. For a man as smart as he, Sander had never been able to mask his feelings very well.

'Oh, so it's the Doctor, is it?' Ren frowned, swung herself up from the wall to get a little closer. She touched his shoulder, just for a moment, as she joined him there at the railing, leaning out over the sand below. That single contact was her form of reassurance, the best she could do, given the immensity of Sander's Doctor problems.

'It was the Doctor,' Sander said quietly. 'He's going to come for her. I couldn't completely delete her. It's that damn big bang two... the Engine doesn't know how to deal with her. The best I could do is send her here, and he'll be looking for her. I've made it so much worse for you guys...'

Again, Ren's fingers lightly brushed against his shoulder, 'Now, you know that I have no stake in this fight. The Doctor never did anything to me; I've never met the guy. Really, I'm just here for shits and giggles. But I will fight for you, Sander. Mara's here. So's Kanaria. And I like you and the other guys too, you're alright. So don't worry.'

'You used my full name,' Sander noted with interest. 'Is this... Is this serious Ren, for a change?'

'Yeah well, don't tell anyone. I wouldn't want to make this a habit.'

Neither of them laughed. Not outwardly, anyway. There was just silence, accentuated by the slow natural rhythms of the world around them; the breaking waves, the winds whipping through their hair, the soft rustling of the vegetation surrounding the building. And eventually, the opening of a sliding glass door.

'Hello, fellows!' Mara said brightly, leaping through the door and out into the sunlight. She grinned, seemingly oblivious to the atmosphere on the balcony.

'Good morning, big sister, Sander,' Kanaria's wispy voice followed Mara. She was smiling, but her cheeks were in full blush, which was unusual even for her. It was pretty clear what was embarrassing her so.

'Okay, what's wrong?' Mara attached herself to Sander's arm and stared quizzically at him. 'Any room that has you and Ren in it should be way louder. Was someone having a moment?'

'I guess. Sander thinks the Doctor's going to kill us all,' Ren shrugged. 'From what I've seen, he's just a nerd in a bowtie. With a fancy ship. I think I could take him,' She huffed theatrically. 'Doctor? Doctor W-'

Mara grabbed Ren by the collar and shook her roughly, eyes burning, 'If you say "Doctor Who" I swear to god I'll break your legs!'

'Whoa! Mara! Little angry, there?' Ren pulled herself free of her sister's grasp and eyed her quizzically. After a moment, Mara shrugged.

'Whenever anyone says that, it irritates me. Profoundly. I've never quite known why.'

'Well, listen, the point is this,' Ren shook her head. 'No Doctors here.'

'If only all of us could have the same narrow worldview as you, dear sister,' Mara rolled her eyes. 'Now, could anyone tell me why Kana's blushing so damn much? I've been asking, but she just looks away and giggles.'

'It's because-'

'S-Sander!' Kanaria cut him off, stammering. If it had been dark, her face would probably have glowed. 'I don't even want you to know...'

Ren draped an arm around her youngest sister's shoulders, a wide, creepy looking grin spreading across her face, 'Kana-chan...' She lilted, drawing the words out. Kanaria shifted nervously, a tiny squeak escaping her as Ren pressed herself closer. 'Spill...'

Sander could see where this was going; Kanaria was generally as formidable as wet tissue paper, and it wouldn't be long before her brash sister would get what she wanted. Firmly, he extracted the younger woman from Ren's grip and guided her back through the glass doors, 'Just go. Flee. You know where her cell is, you didn't exactly need to get my permission, or anything.'

'Oh! Um... right. Okay...' Kanaria somehow managed to make the act of turning away hesitant, and Sander couldn't resist one last tease, as she walked away.

'Have fun!' He sang, watching her start suddenly as he did so. He knew instinctually that he was a bad man, after that, but a part of him felt it appropriate to grin, all the same. He poked his head outside again, to motion for Mara. He didn't exactly need her for anything, but nor could he imagine a reason why he wouldn't want her with him. She grinned back, and followed, leaving Ren out on the balcony.

'You know, people never seem to remember that I'm here too,' A voice issued from a deckchair positioned under a shade at the far end of the deck.

'That's because you didn't speak up, dude,' Ren called back. A head poked up from behind the chair, a thin pair of arms hung themselves over the back of it.

'Yeah,' The vaguely androgynous figure grinned. 'I just don't want to be a background character in this little play.'

'Sure, sure,' Ren waved vaguely. 'Hey, what's the deal with that ring San-chan's always wearing? Is it his wedding ring? Because, y'know, he's not married, anymore.'

'What?'

'His ring,' Ren persisted. 'The gold ring, that he has on his finger. He keeps toying with it when he gets agitated. But he's not married to Imouto-chan. So it's gotta be from when he was married, and that's not cool that he keeps wearing it.'

'I don't think he'd do that. He loves Mara, if it bothered her, he wouldn't be wearing it, now would he? Besides, you could just ask him about it, if it bothers you that much.'

Ren stared down the corridor, at the door that had closed on Sander and Mara. She sighed. When she had been recruited for this job, it had seemed like so much fun. Now, Amy was here; this was supposed to be the time when it all happened, and admittedly, it had been highly enjoyable, but... Why did everyone have to be so serious?

'You're probably right, Tsugi-chan.'

*********************************

Kanaria stopped outside the door to Amy's cell, hand poised just above the scanner pad. Now, on the doorstep, doubts began to rise in her mind. But that was normal, especially for her. It was the work of but a few moments to tamp down on her misgivings. For science.

Kanaria had no illusions about being a good person herself.

Jericho's voice slid out from the inset speakers, 'In accordance with Master Hackett's instruction, preparations have been made inside this cell to ensure a safe and enjoyable visitation, Miss Kanaria.'

'What has he done?' Kanaria's head tilted curiously.

'I have been instructed not to "spill the beans," Miss Kanaria. Master Hackett feels that it would be better left a surprise.'

'That's... ominous,' She sighed, pressing her palm to the scanner. 'Let's see what he's got for me...' The door slid open, and Kanaria squeaked.

Amy was sitting on the bed, eyes baleful and irritated, red hair falling around her face and obscuring her deadpan anger. Kanaria blinked; Sander certainly knew what he was doing...

She was naked, pale flesh gleaming like porcelain in the soft, morning light. Her hands were bound behind her back, shoulders pinioned in the tight bondage. Sander had opted for the magnetic cuffs, always a favorite for their easily adjustable length. A simple black ball gag topped off Sander's "preparations," clenched between Amy's teeth and spreading her jaw wide. She was packaged up and presented so appealingly, just waiting for someone to find her.

On top of all this, Kanaria was unable to ignore the silver glint of the Command Collar, looped around the captive's neck. Her eyes were drawn to it, and she felt an altogether different kind of blush creep through her. When she smiled, it had an eager edge to it, without losing any of its usual easygoing brightness. This was going to be fun.

'Hello, Amy!' Kanaria bounced into the room, certain compassionate instincts competing against the meaner parts of her mind to determine her immediate course of action. She dropped herself heavily onto the bed beside the bound girl, bouncing as the springs reacted to her weight.

Amy eyed this newcomer, making no attempt to hide her suspicion and anger. Although she seemed innocent enough, Amy wasn't about to make any assumptions; in the right light, Mara seemed pretty normal too. Who knew what lurked behind that sunny, charming smile? Under that head of lustrous, black hair?

'Um... My name is Kanaria,' The newcomer said hesitantly, her eyes darting around and barely making eye contact for more than a few seconds. 'It's nice to meet you...'

Amy's eyes widened, her entire expression shifted into utter disbelief; was this actually happening? Sitting here naked, tied and pissed off, was this woman introducing herself? Did she want to be friends? What was this? She made a noise through her gag that she hoped would convey her incredulity.

'Oh! Ah, sorry about that!' Kanaria reached up behind Amy's head and divested her of the gag. Her face went even redder as she held the saliva-coated gag, watching as Amy worked her jaw, 'Wasn't thinking...'

She went further than merely removing Amy's gag, twisting at the waist to get around behind her to remove the cuffs. There was a muted click, and Amy's hands sprung free; she made a little sound of relief and rotated her shoulders, trying to dispel the ache. Beside her, Kanaria clicked her tongue with concern. She took hold of Amy's wrists, rubbed red and raw by their time in the cuffs, and gently massaged some blood back into them, a dissatisfied frown on her face.

'I love Sander,' She said, eyes occasionally catching Amy's. 'But he is a rough man, mostly. I'm sorry, Amy, he shouldn't have done that to you. I didn't want that.'

For a moment, all Amy could do was stare and cast around in her mind for something to say. It was clear, from the few moments Kanaria allowed herself eye contact, that she expected something from her, even in the inherently awkward nude position. But she was tired, her jaw ached- Jericho had packaged her some time ago- and the sweet, nervous girl act that Kanaria was putting on was getting on her nerves.

'Okay, what do you want?' Amy hissed finally. She rotated her shoulders, 'I mean, I can guess, judging from all this, that you didn't come here to talk.'

Kanaria stiffened and pursed her lips, hands fidgeting in her lap. Her eyes snapped to one side, and stayed there, 'Um... Well, you know. I'm here for the same thing as everyone else...'

Amy opened her mouth to say something back, and it was like she had sprung a trap; Kanaria swept forward, pressing her lips to Amy's with surprising strength. Her hands slid to Amy's waist, fingers trembling with nervousness. That was the most unexpected thing, to Amy; the odd tentative, anxious way in which Kanaria explored her body. She could actually sense her vague unease in her kiss, in the way she seemed to be holding herself back, even as her tongue made its first, faltering probe into Amy's mouth.

Despite all this, there was gentleness to Kanaria's attentions, something that the other jailers lacked. Her touch was soft and, while it had the same controlling edge that had characterized Amy's captivity, it was tempered by an earnest, exploratory kindness that usually wasn't present. Amy could sense the desire driving Kanaria's actions but, as those delicate, probing fingers rounded her hips, she knew that there was a genuine desire to give them both pleasure, not merely take it from her by force, as Sander, Mara and, latterly, Ren had. There was only one problem: She was not a lesbian.

Kanaria's body melted against Amy's, much like the others had before her, but instead of pushing her down onto the bed, she clasped the soft body of her captive against her, and...

Actually, hold on: Only one problem? Amy cursed herself internally. She hadn't merely forgotten the fact that, no matter how gently, she was being raped. She had gotten used to it. Accustomed. So quickly, she had fallen back down into that rut, and the humiliation, the restraints... every part of this had become background noise. Normal, again. And if this was normal...

Amy knew she would be touched, molested, stimulated against her will and before she could even protest she would be shaking and moaning and dripping and cumming...

What was happening to her?

She was already responding; the creamy flesh of her stomach trembled as Kanaria's fingertips trailed softly downwards. A soft, shaking whimper escaped her lips, her hands lay uselessly on the bed; she wanted to run, escape, disappear before the inevitable happened and her resistance shattered. Before she lost the battle against her own body. Before she...

Before she started liking it.

But that was already happening, wasn't it? She could feel it happening, her body responding to the unexpected softness Kanaria was bringing to this encounter. Who was this girl, who could so effortlessly disarm her, make her forget her chains? Amy's resolve bounced from rock solid to completely insubstantial, based entirely on where Kanaria placed her hands, where their bodies touched... At her weakest moments, Amy found herself kissing back.

'Amy?' Kanaria whispered breathlessly, between kisses. 'I want you to do something for me...'

Amy's heart sank as the other woman lifted the skirt of her sundress, letting it crease as she hiked it higher, revealing a modest pair of white panties beneath. Out of interest, Amy's gaze crept higher to confirm that, yes, Kanaria was now blushing like a schoolgirl, her smile completely adorable even with what was coming next.

Her mouth opened once, twice, as she tried to get the words out, only to trip over her own tongue. Amy blinked, disbelieving: This woman was so cute! She was legitimately embarrassed for doing this; not remorseful, not hesitant, but embarrassed that she was having sex at all. Embarrassed to be showing off her underwear to a stranger... How did a person like this get mixed up in Sander's game?

Now that it was clear that there was no act, that Kanaria was literally incapable of hiding anything, she became almost endearing. Still, the humiliation of being stripped and bound for her amusement, cute though she was, loomed in Amy's mind. No matter how much Kanaria stammered or mumbled, there was an impending order in her future, and when she finally gave it, Amy would be unable to disobey. That fact was inescapable.

Except that suddenly, there was no order. Kanaria stood, gave Amy a dazzling smile and, through her ever-deepening blush, pulled her underwear down to her knees before falling back to the bed. Amy eyed the slightly moist pink folds presented to her, knowing that very soon, that was where her face was going.

Kanaria gave Amy a gentle smile and ran her fingertips lightly over her cheek, 'I'd like you to use your mouth. Can you do that for me, Amy? Please? Will you lick me?'

Her cheeks flushed red as she felt Kanaria's hand slide through her hair, exerting a very gentle downward pressure. Her eyes went to her captor's, pleading silently for some kind of mercy, knowing the truth; Kanaria might be meek, but she wasn't above using the Command Collar. After all, there was a reason she had taken that last step across the threshold and entered this particular room. This cell.

And the deeper truth was that everything about this, the hand on her head urging her lower, her nudity, and the sweetness in Kanaria's voice... They were doing something to her. An awful, familiar, shameful heat built in the pit of Amy's stomach. She could feel the first inklings of her own wetness between her legs at the impending rape. Recriminations wracked her mind: this was wrong. She was being forced. This shouldn't be doing affecting her like this. What was wrong with her?

But as she was forced to bend at the waist under Kanaria's insistent hand, her knees bent beneath her, her doubts became tertiary concerns. She couldn't think straight, not with the force of her own humiliation and guilt. Not with her whole body seemingly on fire with embarrassment as she leaned ever closer to Kanaria's pussy. She whimpered and gave one last, half-hearted squirm, feeling that she must offer some resistance, fight against the inevitable...

'Amy, please don't make me order you...' Kanaria pouted, and Amy could sense the genuineness of the sentiment. Did she feel like it was cheating?

Amy exhaled a deep, shuddering sigh, her eyes closing as all her options faded away and she was left with a single, humiliating course of action. She was inches away from Kanaria's pussy, so close that her breath made the young woman shiver. The expression on her captor's face had changed, her eyes reflecting her growing need. This was happening, even if Kanaria had to utter that dreaded command word.

Rather than allow control of her body to be stolen away from her, Amy girded herself for what was expected of her and stuck out her tongue, giving Kanaria a firm lick up the length of her slit. There was a gasp from above, and the thighs arrayed by Amy's ears clenched suddenly. Despite the situation she found herself in, Amy grinned; she had far more control over this encounter than she would have if this was Sander or Mara. It was important to savor the little things, in dark circumstances like this.

Still, her face flushed red as Kanaria's fingers curled tighter through her hair, her smile disappeared as she was forced deeper between the newcomer's legs and her subconscious picked that precise moment to remind her of the collar around her neck. The reality of her situation was inescapable; she was imprisoned on an alien world and was currently being forced to lick a stranger's pussy. There were no victories for her.

And yet, a traitorous little voice in her head whispered, you are getting wet...

Her thighs squeezed together, but nothing was going to rid her of the heat curling between her own legs, even as she lapped at the space between Kanaria's. Her body seemed to betray her instantly, and she whimpered through the haze of unwanted arousal that was steadily building through her. The guilt at the thought that any part of her could enjoy this was terrible, almost a physical weight pressing down on her. Not that it did anything to assuage those feelings; in fact, guilt seemed to amplify them.

'Oh, yes! Yes, like that!' Kanaria gasped, a shudder wracking her body. 'Oh, that feels wonderful, Amy!'

Amy's face burned as her mouth went to work on Kanaria's sweltering cunt, the taste of the strange woman strong on her tongue. She focused on the clit, figuring there was little point in drawing this out, her sucking lips capturing the tiny bud and drawing a long, tense shudder from its owner. What she was doing seemed to be working; every moan, whimper or shiver of pleasure Kanaria gave just signposted where she should focus her attentions. More than anything, Amy desired an end to this; if she could just make her cum, maybe she would leave. In her absence, maybe Amy could dispel the feelings welling in her, the terrible pressure building in her stomach. That desperate, freewheeling desire that wished only to be quenched.

Kurokami
Kurokami
204 Followers