Doctor Who: Panic Moon Ch. 23

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Kurokami
Kurokami
205 Followers

'That's the truth,' He said in a cool voice, the lack of volume there so much worse than if he had just yelled. These words were truly just for her; Amy was so used to Sander speaking at her, playing a role that allowed her to simply disregard his words as something said solely for his benefit, as though the words were for show. But this was personal, just between the two of them; even if she could somehow convince him to keep this a secret from everyone else... he would still know...

'Now, I'm aware this is different, I'm not stupid,' Sander continued, keeping his gaze locked to Amy's; she struggled to keep up the eye contact herself. 'But it is the truth. Amy Pond, struggling with so much more than her alien abandonment... Every time I saw you give in to what you really want, all it gave me was ideas, Pond...'

'It is different,' Amy spat, finally finding her confidence again, and with it a righteous anger. 'I would never-'

'Do that with me?' Sander smirked. 'I beg to differ...'

Without another word, he spun her around, his grip just tight enough to hint at what would happen to her if she even thought about struggling. Even so, her hands went to grab his with automatic defensiveness as he went to push her hips out against his. But Sander's strength would not be denied; in moments, and despite whatever resistance that Amy could offer, her backside pressed into his crotch, the thin fabric of her skirt no measure of defense at all against what he had to offer there. Amy head him laugh, throaty and deep, right beside her, as he gripped her own wrists and pushed her hands onto the cold metal of the wall.

'Keep your hands on the wall,' He growled, giving her wrists a painful squeeze to punctuate his words. 'If you take them off, even for a second, I'll make you regret it, Amy... Do you understand me?'

'Yes...' She squeaked, knowing full well that the Collar around her neck could be put to use at any moment. She was desperate to fight back, to offer some form of resistance but... like this, he frightened her. She was all alone with him, there were no moderating influences here, and this place was clearly one of high stress to him. With Mara around there was at least some form of moderating influence on his mania, but here...

God knows what pissing him off would bring now...

'Oh no,' Sander said, and though Amy couldn't see his face, she could feel his vicious grin on the back of her neck. 'I'm back home, and here I was as near to royalty as one could get... I'm feelin' like I should be getting a bit of respect, here... Say that again, Pond...'

She knew what he wanted, the game he was playing was painfully familiar. It took her a few attempts to even get the words out, such was the sheer force of her pride and desperation. In the end, of course, the Command Collar wrapped around her neck was the deciding factor, the weight of it forcing her to continue.

'Y-yes... sir...' She stammered, closing her eyes and leaning her forehead against the wall. Her cheeks flushed hotly, the pronounced effect of the words yet another humiliation; she had been made to say all kinds of things at the behest of Sander and his crew in the past, some of it- most of it, if she was being honest- had had some perverse effect on her body, just as they had wanted... but this was different. This was serious.

Sander wasn't really playing anymore. Not for fun, anyway.

Amy wasn't even surprised when she felt his fingers dig into the back of her neck, keeping her head held down against the wall.

'I could make you go further,' He snarled, and Amy began wondering just how far she had ended up pushing him. He had been angry with her in the past; hell, they had met when he was angry, but he seemed to have taken her challenge to his authority here rather more seriously. Something in this place, or his connection to it, had changed the stakes of the game; if Sander was a family man, he was a damn hardcore one.

Amy's back stiffened as she felt Sander grip the hem of her skirt and pull down roughly, allowing it to drop discarded and alone to the floor once it had passed the curve of her hips. It pooled around her ankles, after clinging to her legs the entire way down; Sander took the time to kick it away from them once Amy had stepped out of it, leaving her feeling extra exposed. Her fingers tightened on the wall, but stayed resolutely attached.

She upped the pressure, practically driving her palms into the wall as he dragged her shirt up over the curve of her breasts, letting the fabric bunch up and rest there once it had cleared the tops of her perky, aching mounds. She kept her eyes shut to hide her prickling tears, as she heard him unzip himself from behind her, the faintest trace of a finger down her spine such a contrast against his previous strength.

And she only cried out once when he drove himself into her, hot and hard and shockingly deep, with a single thrust. Her gasp echoed off the walls; she had been unprepared for that, but her wetness had preempted Sander, against her will.

'You hate this, don't you?' His voice threaded through her, but Sander kept still, otherwise. His hips had met her ass, his cock buried to the hilt in her shamefully moist cunt, her toes curling inside her shoes at the thin, sickly pleasure that needled at her at his mere touch. When one of his hands snaked around to her chest, fingers pulling painfully at her nipples, one at a time, Amy had to bite back a whimpering moan.

'Not just gettin' fucked, but how you react to it,' He continued, words just for the two of them. There was an unerring knowledge in his tone, that made Amy tremble with sheer helplessness, 'But the truth is, this is exactly why you react, Amy. You blush, and you cry, but you cum, too. You hate what we do to you... but we're the only ones who know how. Proud, brave Amy Pond, the Girl Who Waited... and all she really wanted was someone to hold her down and fuck her until she can't take it anymore...'

'I don't want this,' Amy hissed, her jaw set against the discomfort blooming hotly through her chest, nerve endings screaming in confusion. Her traitorous body didn't seem to know how to interpret the pain; her pussy juiced up even as her eyes welled with tears.

'And that's why it works,' Sander's grin prickled the skin on the back of her neck. 'Loving what you don't want... You're just one big bundle of cognitive dissonance, aren't you, you fucked up little slut?'

'I'm fucked up?' Amy tried to sound tough, even a little defiant, but her words came at the same time as a particularly rough tug to her nipple, and her voice rose into a whimper as she spoke.

'Oh, we both are...' He growled. 'Isn't it nice that we match? Just a couple of strays in the universe, except one of us was always just waiting for the correct collar. And the Doctor's just wasn't right... Here, let me illustrate my point...'

And then, he started to move.

There was no build up, or even any indication that he was planning anything; one moment he was still and taunting, the next moving and... vicious. His breath snarled in his throat as he pulled out, only to thrust into Amy just as deeply as before, but with far more force. Sander's cock stabbed into her, so hard and so fast that all Amy could do was spread her legs wider in the hopes of alleviating some of the discomfort. It didn't help, but in the mother of all mixed blessings, Amy found herself growing wetter by the second, easing Sander's invasive thrusts.

She knew not to take her hands off of the wall; the way he was acting, Sander was liable to lash out if she disobeyed, and with the mire of hormones her body had become... Amy had no idea how she would react to that. Her cheeks colored at the mental admission, tears making tracks down them, not only at the pain in her body, but the utter shame of how she trembled with it; how her pussy smacked wetly at each inward thrust, how her clit throbbed in time with his fucking, how her muscles tightened and heat coiled deep in her hips. Nobody should react like this to this...

Every thrust made Amy feel more and more ill at ease, like an alien in her skin. Her body was rebelling, sparking, a live wire no matter how hard she fought against what he was doing to her. And it had to be Sander doing it, because the alternative was that this was all inside her own skin...

She was unable to fight bodily; with her hands against the wall and that Command Collar around her throat, there was no way she could throw Sander off. But she could fight mentally; as her entire body shivered and arced higher, Amy gritted her teeth and clamped down on herself as hard as she could, trying to delay an orgasm that she could feel welling in her depths. All she had to do was last longer than Sander...

Of course, that was easier said than done...

'You think I can't feel that?' Sander murmured, in between long, grunting thrusts. It was all he needed to say; Amy sobbed in shame as even then she climbed higher. It had become inevitable, and something in that was at least a little comforting. She could give up some small portion of volition; she was going to cum. All at once, his leash tightened a little more about her neck.

By now, she could actually feel her juices running down the inside of her thighs, her entire physical form going into meltdown as she watched. It was as though she was just observing it happen; Amy Pond had been entirely given over to whatever Sander Hackett could do to her. There was no defense, nowhere to run; powerless wasn't the half of it, it was more like all her agency had been stripped away, her body a prison of unbidden, unwanted lust. She could feel herself falling, that coiled spring inside her unbearably tight and ready to break loose at any moment.

She could hear herself moaning freely, as though from very far away.

'You're about to get off,' Sander said, stating the fact like a nail pounded through her brain. Just having him speak to her like that, at once taunting and powerful, sent her cunt into spasm around his pummeling cock. He never let up, even though in her mind she was frantic, near begging him to... just unable to force the words out.

She didn't want to, she couldn't cum... not like this. It would only confirm everything he thought about her...

Everything she feared about herself...

'F-fuck...' Amy didn't know why she said it, said anything, really. It just seemed like she needed to say something, to fill the silence more than the wetness of her pussy already did, the squelching like a million tiny accusations.

Fucked up slut...

'Come on, Amy. Say it,' His fingers gripped painfully into her hips, and for a moment she lost control even more, rolling her ass back against him... She was a train derailed, a reactor at meltdown, a volcano ready to blow. Nothing seemed real, everything had a dreamlike quality to it; feeling like this couldn't be something that happened in reality...

'Feels good, doesn't it?'

'Yes...'

'You really are a messed up girl,' Sander grunted, before slapping Amy's ass hard enough to make her back arch in pain. 'Cum.'

Amy would have laughed at how ridiculous it was that Sander thought he could make her do that just by ordering her to... had that not been exactly what happened. She moaned, in abject shame.

Her climax welled up in her belly, an oily tide like nausea enveloping her, gripping her like a fist. It was almost cold, sweeping up and down her body, centering on her hips, radiating out into her bones and muscles and skin, leaving her chilled almost to the point of madness. It was pain and rapture, all rolled up into one. Tears tracked wet lines down her burning cheeks as she leaned her forehead against the cool surface of the wall, screaming through clenched teeth in a trembling, sobbing voice. And all the time she came, Sander was there, so close, inside her, making her do it...

It was amazing how merely naming her dysfunction like he had changed the experience of it so much...

'You know,' His voice broke through, even as her cunt spasmed around his still moving cock, taunting her still. 'There aren't any contraceptive fields here. If I cum in you...'

'P-please...' She gasped, body still throbbing through the aftershocks of an orgasm that had left her a quaking mess. Hadn't this gone far enough?

She felt him draw closer, the silence felt like he was winding up to say something, and then...

'Well? Give me a better alternative, Pond...'

'My mouth...' She sobbed, the words tumbling out of her before she even knew what she was saying. Something had crumbled inside her; anything to get this over with, now...

'Nah,' Sander said. 'I've got a better idea.'

For a moment Amy felt him withdrawing, resulting in a blissful emptiness in her sopping pussy. The suddenness of the act made her gasp, but she couldn't help feeling relieved that it was over. It was an uncharacteristically merciful act from Sander, but she wasn't about to question it. But then she felt his hands on her ass, and in that split second knew what was coming next; even so, it didn't prepare her for the sheer force with which Sander tilted his hips upward, and skewered her ass.

There was pain to it, in that sudden fullness, and the intense violation of Sander taking yet another part of her for his own pleasure. But so much worse... she came again, suddenly and intensely, her entire body throbbing with it. She moaned this time, but this orgasm was far shorter than the sickly one that had preceded it; merely a pang of climax, like a taunt: "Yes, you even got off on that, too..."

Sander's orgasm was something of a mercy, given that. Amy felt his cock pulse in her ass, waves of sticky wetness filling her up, and though she wept anew, there was at least a cold comfort in the fact that he wouldn't be able to do that again for a while. She had some time to recover.

He stepped away, and through the haze of shame and arousal Amy only barely remembered to keep her hands on the wall until he said otherwise. Having just gotten off, it was unlikely that he would even remember to punish her for that, but given what had just happened, Amy wasn't willing to take the chance. She waited, sobbing softly to herself, shoulders rising and falling in an uneven rhythm as Sander resettled his clothes and zipped up his pants.

'What are you- Oh, Amy... take your hands off the wall, you're free. Released,' Sander said, restraining a chuckle. 'I got what I wanted.'

'Free... yeah,' Amy tried to snap, making sure to wipe the tears from her eyes before looking over her shoulder to get Sander into eyeshot; there was no need for him to see those. She quickly reclaimed her clothes, bringing her skirt back into place before pulling her shirt down over nipples that were still aching and sensitive; a shiver went down her spine as the cloth slipped over them. It made her sick to her stomach that she still felt like this.

'I'm not gonna claim that was anything other than what it was,' Sander said, rolling his shoulder idly. 'I got mad, I lost control. That's the risk you run when you challenge me on the sensitive issues. But I've got a job to do down here, so if you've got something to say, say it now.'

'Do you still think you've got the moral high ground?' Amy said, eyes narrowing. 'After what you just did?'

Sander sighed, gave Amy a very firm gesture to stay put before disappearing into the tech hub. Amy peered in through the doorway, glimpsing a ceiling laden with cables and wires, drooping slightly under their own weight, lit from below by light blue track lighting. It gave the entire room an eerie quality; the looping wires cast long, curved shadows across the walls, the floor, and eventually across Sander himself, as he pried open yet another panel, this time on what seemed to be the central control unit. As Sander's cool blue eyes peered out at her from within the solid, dark shadow he sat in, Amy became very glad she didn't have to follow him.

'Warning: Exterior shell compromised,' The Interface bloomed into life, colored a darker, warning red than before. Of course, this new coloration contrasted awfully with the otherwise cool and understated lighting, making the creature jar with the world around it in a nasty way. Its cogwheels almost blurred as they spun, 'Security-'

'Interface, shut up,' Sander cut in. 'Log off, I know what I'm doing. And I don't need the interruption right now.'

'Logging off...'

'Damn right,' He growled. 'Now, if I just... Yeah, there we go! My house, my rules...'

He removed himself from the depths of the machinery he had entangled with, threading his fingers delicately around the twists and turns of the morass of wiring and instruments. Swearing gently to himself, upon catching his thumb in between a knot of wires, Sander finally came free, shaking his hands in the air as though dislodging droplets of water from them. It was strange, but that tiny useless gesture reminded Amy; there was a real person in there somewhere. This place was testament to that fact; once upon a time Sander Hackett had lived like anyone else, had people he cared about just as much as she did for Rory. Of course, then the question became: how much of that person was left?

How much had he been corroded by his venomous hatred?

'You're not going to change my mind,' He said, out of the blue as he caught up to Amy and led her back up the way they had come.

'What?' Amy replied, caught off balance by the way he had shifted, the way that angry monster had disappeared, almost without warning. He didn't even seem able to acknowledge it now.

'About what I'm doing,' He said. 'Don't even try, it's just liable to piss me off. Like you, when those shrinks tried to convince you that the Doctor wasn't real. Remember that? You lashed out, just like I am. Of course, you were just a kid... but you're not different from me, Amy.'

'I am not like you,' There was no anger in her voice, but the emphasis was still there. What would be the point of anger? He really wasn't going to be convinced, she knew that. Some small part of her believed there must be something, some switch inside him that could make him turn back, but that ideal was quickly being crushed under the sheer weight of the rest of her situation. Still, she needed to say something, 'You're a monster.'

Or close to becoming one, that tiny inner voice amended. For a moment, Amy was afraid she would say it out loud, too.

'Monsters are made for the Doctor,' Sander answered, without hesitation. At times, it really did seem like he had all his Doctor-related thoughts lined up in neat little rows inside his head, ready to be trotted out when needed. Like he had been rehearsing an angry little play about Time Lords this entire time, 'Forged, whether through anger, or fear, or any number of things, just to take him on. How much stronger have the Daleks become to bring him down? How many worlds have fallen to the Cybermen to replenish the legions he destroys? And how many of his friends do you honestly think have come away without some awful scar or two?'

'Those aren't his fault!' Amy was surprised at how plaintive her words had sounded, as she stopped on one low stair, and allowed Sander to climb up to the next landing before turning back.

'Aren't they?' His head tilted, brows knitting into a kind of confused disappointment, as though he couldn't quite believe she had asked such a ridiculous question. 'He knows what he does is dangerous, and he still collects us anyway. He can try to protect you, but he knows he'll fail. He's never once succeeded all the way. He's supposed to be your guide. How many free passes can you possibly be willing to give him? Besides, I know what happens to you, Amelia Pond, and because I've seen your future, I know exactly what it takes to get you to kill.'

Kurokami
Kurokami
205 Followers