Doctor Who: Panic Moon Ch. 19

However, as she worked she came to a decision in her head; if Sander saw fit to give her a mouthful now, she would certainly be giving him one when she was done.

Except Sander wasn't content to just let her be, of course not. As she clenched her fists beneath the console and ran her tongue up the length of his cock, he talked to her. Taunted her really, though his words were softly spoken and positive in content, he knew the effect they would have on her. She could sense it, in the just barely audible amusement in his voice.

He was critiquing her as she sucked him, content to let her do all the work while he ensured the ship remained safe. He never took the time to so much as look at her, at the bobbing, dark haired head visible in his lap, but his words were just for her. In fact, Christina doubted the other three captives behind him could even hear him. But she could. Her face flushed redder with every sentence, bit of praise or request.

'Yeah, that's good... Do that thing with your tongue again, where you try to wrap it around my-... Ooh, yes, like that!' She felt his muscles tighten as she obeyed, the threat of that damnable Collar so present in her mind. In many ways she feared the device that kept her imprisoned here far more than anything her captors could do to her; the way it almost seemed to strip her from her body was one of the most unsettling sensations she had ever experienced.

Away from them all, still sitting in the bank of seats lining the neck of the Gespenst, Amy, Sally and Lorna watched on uncomfortably. If it wasn't bad enough that they were unwilling spectators to the degradation of one of their own- if an aloof and slightly intolerable one of their own- the vibrators Ren had kindly forced them to wear seemed to understand the situation a little too well. Whether they had actually sped up, or simply settled permanently against particularly sensitive spots in each of them, the pleasure they all felt was terrifyingly real.

At least, for Sally and Lorna it was. Amy had practically come to expect it, but for the newcomers the sheer control Sander's crew had over their bodies was a frightening experience. All three of them squirmed in their seats, Amy taking it the best, merely sitting in her seat with her gaze in her lap, trying her best not to let the seeping sensations from overtaking her. Ren's parting words had been all too accurate; however much heat the toys could force into their nerves, the one thing they would not do was allow them to cum. Amy took a moment to wonder whether hers had sensors in it to detect when she was getting close, and how it was programmed. However it worked, it was awfully, frustratingly accurate.

She did, however, notice how outwardly cooperative Christina was being. Aside from a few poisonous words and, from what Amy had been able to see, a glare that could kill, the noblewoman hadn't resisted enough to give Sander reason to even use her Collar, let alone coerce her in any way. But then again, hadn't the same thing happened to her? Didn't it also lie in Sally and Lorna's future?

Because it was a different scenario, once you realized that this captivity wasn't going to end in the foreseeable future. That it was going to go on, with no end in sight, until rescue came for them. It was alright to resist and fight, to swear and scream and raise bloody hell when Sander had used her the first few times, when she had seen rescue constantly on the horizon and interpreted every sudden noise as the Doctor and Rory coming around the corner, but as time went on Amy had begun to see things differently.

The facts were, she was ultimately powerless here, and even if she did attempt some form of resistance, Sander and anyone aligned with him could force her to be obedient. There was nothing she could do and, as satisfying as even token resistance was, it generally wasn't helpful in the long run. Escape might not be coming for a while, and it wasn't attainable without outside help; fighting may be good for the soul, but cooperating was what was best for the body and the mind. Just get it over with, don't let them draw it out any longer than it has to be, and watch them lower their guard. Watch, as those little freedoms came wandering back that she could use to keep her sanity.

It was happening to Christina, it had happened to Amy, and it was almost certainly going to happen to Sally and Lorna. Besides, Amy had already found her solid core of belief in her own eventual rescue, she was sure the others had it in them too. The Command Collar may be her constant guardian, but Amy was committed to giving them all as little reason to use it as possible.

And if she really looked inside herself... If she was truly forced to be honest... Amy could see that the times where the Collar hadn't been used, when she had been truly in her own flesh but still forced to perform, held down by real flesh and blood hands and fucked...

Those were the times she came the hardest.

Amy wiped away the rebellious little thought, flushed with guilt at the slightest possibility that that meant something beyond Sander's suspiciously complete knowledge of her body. It didn't mean anything. It couldn't.

Oh god, if only he hadn't been so wet when she had thought that...

Sander leaned back in his seat, taking a moment to merely observe the dark haired woman below. His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the contemptuous glare she was giving him, visible only for a second before her mouth descended down his shaft, breaking eye contact with him. Not for the first time, he pondered his bizarrely powerful reaction to her resistance; there was just something about this particular woman that rubbed him the wrong way. Even if she was proving herself quite adept at rubbing certain parts of the anatomy in entirely the right way.

Wordlessly, he leaned in and extended a hand beneath the console, moving at such a languid pace that Christina could not possibly have ignored it. He could almost feel her eyes attempt to follow his fingers as they made their way toward her, eventually settling on her shoulder, the tips hooking in under the collar of her shirt. She made a small noise close to a whimper.

Placing the index finger of his free hand to her forehead, Sander slowly directed Christina to lift her head, until she could comfortably look him in the eye, while at the same time keeping the tip of his cock in her mouth, pressed between soft red lips. He held her gaze, almost dispassionately, as his other hand lowered, dragging her shirt down over her cleavage inch by inch. With every inch of exposed flesh, Christina's expression ratcheted up in intensity, contempt burning in her eyes. Sander only smiled.

'Well, we can all certainly see that you've got some experience working that tongue of yours, Lady Christina,' His voice was level and smooth, observational rather than outright taunting. He was simply stating facts, and it made her blush deeply, 'I've got no doubt that you've been practicing, which makes me wonder what you nobles really get up to behind closed doors. Or maybe it's a thief thing! Maybe you've had to get yourself out of trouble in the past...'

And for a moment, he simply allowed her to glare at him, completely happy to soak up her hatred as though it were fuel for what was to come. She breathed in long, explosively exhaled breaths, the warm air blowing around his shaft as her deadpan, angry glare skewered him. He fought back a grin.

'You know, girls,' He called back to the other captives, keeping his gaze locked on Christina. 'You might learn a thing or two from this one. She's very... skilled. Knows how to work the teeth just right, and not many girls know how to do that. Tongue too, although that skill's a little easier to come by,' Now he smiled, the expression teetering on the edge of a smirk. 'Maybe I should have her teach a class, or something...'

With idle curiosity, the hand holding her shirt down snapped the fabric tight against the underside of her breasts, leaving them exposed to his sight as he spun the chair around, leading her out in an awkward, kneeling shuffle. The additional space was a blessing to Christina, but at the same time it involved giving three near perfect strangers an eyeful of her naked chest. She kept her eyes locked on Sander's, unwilling to give the others any more reason to stare.

Playfully, Sander palmed her tits, bouncing the two handfuls obscenely, grinning all the while, 'Now, these on the other hand... I can think of a few uses for these. She's quite bountiful, girls. Amy, you know better than most!' He gave the redhead a theatrical wink, the first time he had broken eye contact with Christina. It made them both blush.

'In fact...' Sander began speculatively, allowing his cock to drop from between Christina's lips, trailing a wet line down her chin as his now free hand tangled in her hair and forced her to rise on her knees, placing his length directly between her breasts. 'I can think of something for you to do with them now.'

'Come on...' She stopped short of actually shaking her head, but Christina's voice shook as she spoke, far softer and more vulnerable than it had been in days past.

'Come on, make it happen,' His voice was so gentle, not even a hint of a command was there, but Christina knew she could not disobey. 'Make me cum, slave.'

The final word stung, needled at her mind in such a calculated way; she had no doubt he had thought it through. Someone like Mara used that word interchangeably with "girl," when talking to her, but right now, even through his nonchalant exterior Sander was choosing his words carefully. She could see the gears working in his head, selecting each word or action, examining them with surgical care.

He knew what he was doing, and with one final grunt of sheer enraged displeasure, Christina's hands cupped her breasts at either side, curving them as gently as possible around the engorged rod that lay between them. Her cheeks burned with shame; everything else she could have borne with some form of dignity, but this was too much. This was so far beyond the bounds of decorum, so far outside of her acceptable limits... to be treated like some common whore...

She could feel the eyes of the other girls at her back as she performed her task, her own eyes first prickling, then welling with indignant, involuntary tears. No matter where she looked, there was no escape; forward left her looking at Sander, down only trapped her with the reality of what she was doing, and far out to either side made the concerned, pity- filled stares of the others visible. A de Souza woman needed no pity, even now.

Christina settled for locking her eyes to Sander's, a less than ideal choice given her currently large, watery eyes, but she needed to hold something back from him. She couldn't let him win; looking down only made it seem like she was concentrating on her task, giving it undue attention. She couldn't have that.

The snug, curving cleavage she had created ran up and down the length of his shaft, always filled with the heat of his erection, pressing into the center of her chest like a brand. A few such trips were all it had taken to turn that soft valley into a sodden mess, tracked and glistening with a mix of her own saliva and his precum. She felt truly, utterly used, and for the first time since her captivity here had begun, to her eternal disgust, she made a girlish whimpering sound in the back of her throat, a noise of total helplessness. One by one, the tears began to track wet lines down her face.

The worst part was Sander's obscene grin, filled with simple enjoyment as she worked. The fact that he was benefiting, drawing pleasure from her embarrassment stuck in her craw, bruising her already pretty dented pride. She could tell her cheeks were red enough to be visible, and she cursed herself for being so obviously weak around him.

Sander never touched her, never used any kind of physical inducement to get her to act; she could tell he liked it when she did it herself. Verbal encouragement, however, was apparently on the cards, judging from his occasional cooing praise, dripping with condescension. Christina felt her fingers press into the skin at the sides of her chest, reflecting her anger. She so desperately wanted to lash out at the man above her.

But she couldn't, could never. She had seen his eyes, filled with anger. She knew what he could do, if he was pushed. He was already dancing beyond the edge of sanity, that was proven by her mere presence here, and Christina got the feeling that this was barely the start. Who knows what would happen to her if she deliberately angered him?

So when he gave her a simple order, shifting with vague discomfort as her bust rose and fell, she bristled and growled, but obeyed:

'Why not grease the wheels a bit, Milady?' He said, brushing an errant strand of hair from her forehead in an awful, familiar gesture that made her flinch away. 'Spit on it.'

In response to this, Christina decided that it would be easier to just get this over with. She could complain and glare at him, perhaps even swear in a manner most inappropriate for a lady of her stature, but in the end all she would accomplish would be delaying the completion of the act she was complaining about. When he gave her his ugly little command, she tried to obey in such a way as to dissuade him from the idea that she was at all embarrassed about doing so. Merely a little drip, down into the valley of her breasts, easing the progress of Sander's shaft between them.

The silence between the other three girls had become increasingly awkward, as they sat as unwilling witnesses to Sander's pleasure. The fact that each of them was contending with the coercive sensations being foisted upon them by the vibrators working within them only made it worse. Lorna opted to bow her head, lips moving in silent prayer even as her legs squeezed together, sculpted muscles tense. Sally watched on in a kind of horrified fascination, and Amy settled for simply taking in her surroundings as best she could, noting down any peculiar features of this new ship.

She had started counting the exposed rivets connecting the head section to the neck when Sander... finished up. Christina's whimpering cry of surprise and repulsion threw her back to reality, her head turning automatically in time to see the noblewoman's face and chest being sprayed with Sander's seed. Above her, Sander himself simply looked down his nose at her with cool disinterest, completely wrapped up in his own pleasure over the effect it was having on her.

The girls watched, then, in the knowledge that such observation would undoubtedly make this much harder on Christina, but they were unable to pull themselves away. Sander sat, sinking a little lower in his seat, allowing silence to permeate the moment as Christina knelt with a kind of indignant stillness. In that time, Sander's cum dripped down the curve of her bust, a fact she seemed completely oblivious to, her gaze focused into a beam of pure, compressed hatred directed solely at the man in front of her. When Sander withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and tossed it absently in her direction, her gaze only intensified.

'Clean yourself up, He said in low, vague tones, as he left his chair to amble down the neck of the ship, away to something presumably more interesting. Christina spun around, face burning red under the dripping mess deposited there, and opened her mouth in a barely articulate scream of rage.

'Bastard!' She shrieked, fingers curling into tightly laced fists.

'Yup!' Sander called over his shoulder, ignoring Amy, Lorna and Sally as he turned the corner and left their view. They could hear him humming tunelessly, just out of sight.

Amy kept her silence, averting her eyes uncomfortably as Christina began wiping herself down, grumbling under her breath the entire time. She quickly regained her modesty, pulling her top back up around her chest, and Amy got the feeling that if she so much as stared for a single moment, she would be on the receiving end of a mouthful from the brunette woman. Beside her, Sally regarded Christina with sympathetic eyes, a gesture apparently not returned by the scowling, swearing noble.

'I am going to kill that man,' She said, crisp English syllable attacking the air with gusto. 'Normally that's not my style, but for him... I'll make an exception.'

'I...' Amy found herself speaking without fully recognizing the thought that had formed in her mind. Still, it demanded saying, even though she couldn't place whether or not it was true, 'I don't think the Doctor would allow that.' She said slowly.

'To hell with the fucking Doctor!' Christina snapped, eyes glittering coldly.

'Yeah, that's pretty much Sander's position,' A different voice flitted around the corner, its owner following close on its heels. For a moment she stood, framed in the oblong arch that signaled the beginning of the neck, before her boots tapped along the walkway, closer and closer. Amy and Christina stiffened at her mere presence, and Sally absorbed enough of that reaction to sink back into her seat as Ren came to a stop in front of her.

'Hi girls,' Her mismatched eyes were filled with wry amusement, the kind she seemed to get whenever she had all the power in a given situation. 'Look at you four, sitting all patiently! I might start thinking you were waiting for me! Christina especially, nice and enticing. On her knees.'

Christina made a sound close to a growl low in her throat, but even angered as she was she knew better than to risk an outright confrontation with the Half. Still, she never looked away, glaring at Ren even as the older woman made maddened, mischievous eyes at her. It seemed to be a kind of staring contest, and it went on for several seconds, tension building in the air before Ren finally gave up with a chuckle.

'Anyway, I'm just here to check on my little project,' She said, shaking her head. 'Let me take a look...'

With a wink, her hand slid under Sally's skirt, the fabric crumpling as she went higher, up and over the hem of her panties, following the wire leading to the vibrating egg lodged in her-by now dripping- pussy. Her fingers lingered there, as Sally squirmed and gasped, for a moment, before withdrawing. The tips of her fingers glistened in the overhead lights. She grinned.

'Oh yeah. You're done cooking, Miss Sparrow,' Ren growled. 'Up you get, girls. You and I, we're going to have an experience together...'

To be continued...