Doctor Who: Panic Moon Ch. 16

She stopped. She had to; it was so clear she'd gone too far. Sander stiffened in his seat at the name, the tiny intake of breath was clearly, terribly audible in the sucking, tense silence that followed. Slowly, deliberately, he stood, swaying a little as he did so. His eyes met hers, just once, and they flickered with something she couldn't quite place. Then, he was gone.

Delicately, Amy placed herself back down on the bed, chewing her lip thoughtfully. That could not be good. She had probably gone too far, there. In fact, from that look in his eyes... Yes, she had gone too far. And he would punish her for it, assuming he even bothered to return. For all she knew, he might just leave her in there, and the next thing she saw would be Ren coming through the door with a wide grin and some other god awful sex toy. Oddly though, that seemed like the preferable option.

She actually jumped when the door opened again, and Sander dragged Christina into the cell with him. Roughly, he dropped the brunette to her knees with a well placed foot to the back of her calves, and took her by the hair, essentially pulling her upright. His eyes swung to Amy, and she shivered at the sheer, rough blackness she saw there.

'Strip,' He said, just one word at a volume barely louder than a whisper.

'Sander...' She began, not knowing where to go with this. One thing was certain, now he was pissed, and it was directed solely at her. Not good. 'Don't-'

He produced, from his pocket, a length of shining silver chain, tipped with a kind of barbed clip that Amy wasn't familiar with, but the purpose of which was shockingly clear. Without ever tearing his eyes off of Amy, Sander reached down with one hand and ripped Christina's shirt right down the middle, exposing breasts heaving with the frantic pace of her breathing. It was clear, then, that he had commanded her not to speak.

Wordlessly, eyes locked on hers, he took one end of the chain and attached the clamp to the base of the noblewoman's nipple, the fearsome teeth biting into the pink bud mercilessly, eliciting a shriek of pain from her. The process was repeated, and the chain rattled and swayed with Christina's breath as Sander took hold of the center links, lifting if over her head with just enough slack to keep it from tugging.

'Strip,' He repeated.

'Sander, come on,' This was taking a distinctly ugly turn, and by now Amy was looking for any escape route she could find. Her eyes found Christina's, seeing the mix of pain and confusion there, her heart dropped. It wasn't just her in this game anymore, 'This is exactly what I was talking about. There's no need to-'

Sander tugged upward, eyes locked to Amy's. Christina cried out as the chain rose, slack disappearing and pulling at her breasts with razor sharp ferocity. He kept her there for a moment, shaking, with watering eyes, before he released, cocking an eyebrow at Amy to ensure she had gotten the point.

'Strip.'

Figuratively and literally, Amy was backed into a corner. She'd never seen Sander like this before; the closest he had come was that raging psychopath that had come out to play when he had seen the Doctor, all those months ago. He'd brought Christina in on this, and it was exceedingly clear that he really didn't give a crap as to what he put her through, which left Amy to wonder: just how far would he go? And how far was she willing to let him go?

Because his eyes were on her. It was painfully clear who had the power to stop this... but that would just mean transferring his attentions to her, wouldn't it? And he had far more reason to be angry at her right now, didn't he?

For the first time since coming here, Amy felt a pang of true fear slide down her spine.

'Sander, please think about this. This is exactly the thing I was talking about before,' She raised her hands pleadingly. 'You get angry, you start throwing blame outward, and then you stop thinking straight. Please calm down and look at what you're-'

His eyes flared angrily, his hand swung upward, and Christina's breast danced, quite literally, on a string. Scream. Oh, fuck...

'Strip.'

'Wow, there's just no getting through to you, is there?' She snapped, reaching for the hem of her shirt. Once again, it was impossible to find underwear in this place, so in discarding the shirt she was essentially leaving herself half naked. Normally, she could rationalise that Sander had seen everything there was to see, so there was little point in being modest... But today, he was glaring at her with such intensity that she felt a definite desire to cover up. Her hands went to her breasts momentarily, covering herself from his sight before she remembered the chain, and the unfortunate hostage it was attached to. She lowered her hands to the waistband of her skirt, looking out defensively at Sander from beneath her fringe.

Her skirt dropped in a disappointingly fluid slide down her long legs, pooling around her feet as she stepped out of it. She stood, hands on her hips, a challenging expression on her face; she knew she was going down, but damned if she wasn't going to go swinging.

'On your hands and knees. Now,' Sander growled, toying idly with the chain threaded through his fingers.

To resist, or not to resist? What an unfortunate question to be faced with. There was little point in the former, Amy knew, unless she suddenly developed a liking of Christina's pain. Since that was most emphatically not the case, she reluctantly sank to her knees, placing her hands before her in a way that stuck the soft curve of her butt firmly in the air.

'Good girl,' Sander's sarcasm was all too evident, as he picked another object from his pocket; a silver rod that tapered at one end. 'One last thing.'

He tossed the device, and it spun end over end through the air before landing between Amy's hands. She looked at it questioningly.

'It goes in your ass,' For the first time, his expression shifted, turning in a smile that was downright hostile.

'Sander...'

'It goes in your ass, Amy,' He tugged first one end of the chain, then the other, causing Christina's bountiful cleavage to bob once or twice in sequence, soundtracked by her squeaks of discomfort. Amy had no choice. Of course she didn't.

Still, this was only the second time that Sander had ever had designs for her ass, and it was with no small degree of trepidation that she went about following his order. She winced a little as the tapered end of the rod slid in, taking it about as deep as she felt comfortable, and no further. She glared at her captor as threateningly as she could while nude, on her hands and knees, and with a foreign object protruding from one or more orifices. Sander remained silent, though this time there was a kind of expectant edge to it.

It was around this time that she heard the poof.

It was, in every possible way, clearly the sound of something expanding very rapidly. And it was coming from behind her. Was there any wonder she turned around so fast?

It was something Amy would live to regret.

The exposed part of the rod that was situated quite firmly in her butt had grown fur. Luxuriant, healthy looking red fur, but fur nonetheless. As of this moment, Amy Pond had a tail.

'Sander, what the fu-'

'No no, girl,' Sander shook his head, perhaps a little too forcefully. 'Was that not enough of a giveaway? You're a dog, now.'

'Sander! This is too far!' Amy was well aware of how weak her position was, what with the fluffy little tail sticking out of her ass and twitching experimentally, with a little mechanical buzz hitting her with every motion.

'No, Amy. What's too far is the little gene sequencer in the tail that's currently working through your system. That's too far. Arguably, I'd say the change is permanent. So, it's really your choice whether you want to play this as figurative for a little while, or literal forever.'

Did that... did he actually mean that?

'Sander, what-'

'It's up to you, as I said. But I can imagine the situation getting a little hairy for Christina and especially for you if you keep bitching to me...' He paused, enjoyed the unintentional wordplay. 'Ha, that's good.'

'I don't-'

'First lesson!' Sander growled. 'And I can't believe I even have to teach you this, but dogs don't speak.'

'S-Sander...'

'No, you seem to be missing the point, still. Here, let me help you,' He tugged on the chain, still glittering on his fingertips, and Christina screamed. 'All of this is really down to you, Amy. You made this happen. This one? It's your fault.'

No matter what, she just couldn't bring herself to do what he wanted. It was too much. The look in his eyes proved to her that he wasn't willing to use the Command Collar, that he wanted her to submit on her own, and worst of all, that he was willing to keep applying pressure until she did so. Christina's eyes pleaded with her to just get it over with, it was clear she knew where this was going as well, but...

'I can't,' She whispered. 'Sander, don't-'

He simply was not going to let up. Christina's back arched in a desperate attempt to escape the tension tearing at her nipples to no avail, as Sander lifted the silver chain higher. Sander kept staring, all the time his eyes locked on Amy, barely even conscious of the brunette's suffering. But that was the point; he wasn't supposed to be aware of it. Amy was. And she had travelled with the Doctor; a sure fire indicator that she wouldn't allow that to continue.

Her teeth ground together, she glared right at him, and Amy let out a tiny, venomous bark, hoping to at least stop Sander from further tormenting poor Christina. He grinned, but shook his head and pulled the chain just that little bit tighter, 'No no, girl. Try a bit of enthusiasm.'

Again she tried, this time reaching deep inside to find some well of positivity with which to draw from, and failing. Any other time, she might at least have found it in herself to play along with his sick little games, but not like this. Not naked and kneeling and fucking sodomised by a dog tail. She ended up growling, 'Arf, arf, fucking arf, you sick fuck!'

He shook his head, tugging at the chain idly as he spoke, 'Come now, girl. I'm not exactly sure how much time that tail needs to do its thing, but if I were you I really wouldn't want to risk it. I mean, I guess it's up to you, but you'll need to live with your choices, girl.'

His hand travelled down, gathering up the hem of Christina's skirt before pulling out. She yelped in pain as the fabric tore, the elastic snapped against her skin, and the entire garment was ripped away from her, leaving her naked in its wake. Amy gasped at the sheer brutality of the motion, the violence of it coupled with the shockingly loud sound of tearing cloth. Christina's legs trembled.

'It's your choice, girl,' Sander said, unclipping one clip from Christina's aching breast, causing her to sigh in relief. 'But things aren't exactly going to get better if you don't behave. Like a good dog.'

His hand travelled down, clip glinting in the light. It trailed down her skin, every eye in the room following it. They all knew where it was going, but Christina still whimpered as the jaws opened as it reached the juncture of her legs, sliding around the top of her mound before clamping closed over her clit. Christina howled, eyes screwed shut as she shuddered in Sander's grasp, simply unable to get away.

Amy turned her gaze from the sheer pain on Christina's face. She resolved herself; no matter her own personal humiliation, she wasn't the only one in this anymore. Christina was a part of this too, and she couldn't just stand by as Sander abused her like this. She did the only thing she could to help.

She barked.

Her voice was threaded with sadness and humiliation, but the indignant rage she suppressed, watching as Sander slowly lowered the chain, allowing Christina to relax. She couldn't look Sander in the eye, couldn't bear to see him enjoy her humiliation; she lowered her head, yapping like a dog, finally beaten.

'Good girl!' Sander said condescendingly, reaching out to tousle her hair. She actually felt like biting him, 'I think a performance like that deserves a reward! You want a reward, girl?'

Tears dripped from her eyes, trailing over red hot cheeks as they fell, and she barked again, a grudging acceptance that any change in the situation would be better than this. She had never felt more backed into a corner.

'No no. Dogs beg, girl.'

Her eyes flashed up to meet his, seeing no desire to compromise or show mercy in them. He would have what he wanted from her, no matter the cost to anyone else. She had once heard him mention that, having had to kill before, he found the act distasteful, but she had a hard time believing, in the moment, that he wouldn't go exactly that far, just to subjugate her. Sometimes, with all the smiles and the jokes, it was easy to forget the kind of man she was actually dealing with.

But, could she do it? How far would she have to go? What would he do to her, if she did as he said, or even if she didn't? What kind of button in his head had she pressed by mentioning Elsa?

A muffled sound snapped her out of her reverie, and she looked up to see Sander's fingers tugging the chain as though it were some kind of rein, driving Christina's head further down into his lap. Amy could hear the soft grunts of the brunette, as she was forced down by nothing more than a silver chain and some bundles of nerves.

'You see, this is what obedience looks like, girl,' Sander said. 'Though obviously through different means. Take a good, long look, and figure it out.'

He tugged, he pulled, and Christina grunted. He could play her like an instrument, fingers plucking at individual links to add more pressure to her clit, or her breast, sometimes alternating the two, sometimes ripping at just one mercilessly until Christina had practically swallowed his cock.

But still his eyes locked with Amy's, his regard for Christina only tertiary when compared to the pointed nature of his attentions towards her. His message was clear: this was all for her. Every second Christina was in pain was solely down to Amelia Pond, nobody else.

With a tiny sound of frustration, Amy sat back on her haunches, arranging her arms in the distressingly perky, upward facing style of a dog begging, and... dear lord... panted for his approval. She stuck out her tongue as much as she dared; a tiny, unbearably adorable protrusion from the corner of her mouth. She tried to pant, rather than huff, as was her initial instinct.

Meanwhile, Sander continued to play Christina as though she were some kind of perverse musical instrument, seemingly trying to extract as many different kinds of groans, squeals and grunts from her as possible. Each new tug or variation on the torture opened up new genres of pain to the ersatz noblewoman, spurring her on to greater heights of self debasement just to get him off her back.

Her pursed lips split around his thickness, and she drove herself up and down his shaft, all sense of propriety lost under the sheer weight of her desire to be free of the clamps. He held the chain so taut that to pull back was sheer agony to both her breast and her loins, but she had no choice but to continue; she hoped to make him cum, simply as a time saver. Even if he got bored of her mouth, Christina couldn't imagine that he would just forget about her; she would be used as a tool to ensure Amy's obedience even when he tired of her. But perhaps finishing him early would give her some respite.

She gagged as a particularly harsh tug of her chain sent her diving far too low down her captor's dick. She remembered; ah yes, Sander wasn't hugely interested in what she wanted, here. He was bent on making this difficult. Her eyes welled with tears as he kept the chain taut, keeping her lips at the base of his cock, just so he could enjoy the sensations of her throat against him. She could feel it, just how little she mattered to him; she was just another method to get his point across. This was not how a de Souza should be treated! This was too damn much! What could she have possibly done to deserve this?

She thought back, comparing the young woman she had been, with the entire world at her fingertips, to this; some pathetic, whining, naked thing salivating over some stranger's cock simply to stop him from torturing her. No, that would not stand.

Finally, he dropped the chain, and consequently Christina herself, pushing her aside as though she weren't there and stepping over her to reach his real prize. Amy shrank back from him, having played this game too many times to merely sit still. Sander was taking none of it; wordlessly, he gripped her shoulders and twisted her around, bearing Amy to the ground so that her knees propped her ass up in the air, tail wagging in an obscene parody of canine joy.

There was no foreplay, none of the customary teasing or kinks; Sander simply bore down on top of her, sliding his cock, still glistening in Christina's saliva, into Amy's pussy. He started as he meant to go on; hard, and oblivious to her needs entirely.

'Just so you know,' He growled, pressing her chest down onto the floor as he fucked her. 'Kanaria got hurt. She got her throat cut open, and me? I fucking built her a new one. So don't go moralizing to me, girl!'

Amy opened her mouth to speak, but caught herself at the last second. This close, doing this, there was no telling what he'd do if she disobeyed. She ended up turning her grunts of exertion into reasonable facsimiles of barks, but mostly contented herself with gritting her teeth and trying to keep her legs as wide open as possible to relieve the pressure on her cunt. Even so, it didn't escape her that he had opted to fuck her doggy style.

Her hips jarred with each forceful thrust, and it was all she could do to avoid having her face planted firmly to the floor by levering herself up with her hands. Even so, her breasts occasionally made harsh contact with the cold tiles, giving her cause to yelp in surprise each time. The tail, that damnable tail, was wagging, the rod inside of her wriggling in an incessant and dangerously pleasurable way as it did so, making her blush. She squirmed.

The worst part, if she had to single out one element of this carnival of humiliation as being particularly bad, was just how wet it got her. Not the pressure, or Sander, or the act itself, but the tail. It moved deep inside her, twitching and swaying in patterns that were impossible to predict, yet entirely hypnotic. By the time she had been halfway through her little show, she had been dripping.

And no, there was no other reason...

It was impossible, terrible, the way she lost control under his touch. Almost like she'd never had it to begin with. How was it that he could do this to her? And like this, too; degraded as she was, Amy would have thought it impossible for him to twist her up inside, and yet the heat rose higher with ever thrust. Why was it always so good?

'That tail was kind of expensive, so I hope you're enjoying it,' His lips were at her ear, damn him. Why did he have to push her like that? He was pressing her down now, ensuring she could feel his power over her, and she writhed helplessly, hoping to relieve some of the pressure of his weight on her, give herself some room to move and perhaps lessen the impact of each thrust on her fragile- and distressingly sensitive- body. Sander was having none of it, and his fingers gripped her shoulder tightly as he fucked her, 'It's amazing how many people out there, human or alien, want to be something else. Trans-species folk are getting more numerous all the time, even the prejudice is starting to falter. Though somehow, I doubt you care about the cultural implications of what's happening to you, hmm?'