Doctor Who: Panic Moon Ch. 27

'We are going to get them back,' Sander paced the floor of the suite, every member of his crew following him with their eyes. 'Our guard was down last night, but we've still got the advantage. A better skill set, for one: three psychics, and four awesome technicians...'

'Three?' Mara tilted her head, counting out one, two, on the two aliens in the room in an exaggerated manner.

'Lysithea, Dulsie, and Naga,' Sander said, snapping his fingers. 'Guy's a psychic bloodhound. He'll find them. In the meantime, Kana, can you hack into the camera network? Give us some eyes on the street? And Ren, you feel like heading a search party?'

'You know me, boss,' Ren grinned. 'Any kind of party is my kind of party. I'm on it.'

As the Half left, Sander continued to issue directions to his team, putting them in charge of various tasks that would, in the end, expand their field of vision to cover most of the city. Mara watched without saying a word, knowing that no matter what job he had in mind for her in the end, she wanted to be on the streets, searching. She had been there too, after all; in the beginning, when it was just the three of them. Just Sander, Mara and Amy. The Master, the Mistress and the Slave. Sander wasn't the only one who had formed an attachment to the redhead.

He would be out there actively searching, and so would she. It was only natural.

'Mara, can you take Dulsie and Lysithea to Naga? They need to be coordinating on this,' Sander eventually joined his girlfriend, placing a hand on her shoulder just a little too tightly, hinting at the stress boiling away under his surface. The two aliens trailed in his wake, their lingering eye contact indicating a conversation that only they could hear.

'Fine, I'll tell him,' Lysithea said out loud, in the end. She sighed, and tapped Sander on the shoulder, 'I think we might have something extra we can do.'

'I recruited you because of the extra things you can do,' Sander quipped. 'What in particular?'

'Well... when you went out with Amy yesterday, we... sort of did the same with Sally and Lorna,' Lysithea shifted her weight uncomfortably; at the time she hadn't thought Sander would mind, but in the shadow of The Escape, she wasn't so sure. It had never been discussed, she had just assumed they all had an equal share, an investment in the captives and the machinery of Trismestigius... but all the consequences fell upon Sander and Mara, didn't they?

The Doctor had seen Lysithea's face, that was true, but he had no way of knowing she was involved to this extent. All the Time Lord knew was that Sander and Mara were involved; the kidnapper and his paramour, known adversaries that had done precisely this in the past, and Sander had kept his crew out of the limelight too. If the Oncoming Storm was to fall upon Trismestigius, the lightning would strike only at the house of Hackett.

'You did? Okay, so what?' He took it well, though Lysithea registered a colour of surprise in his mental patterns. He wasn't used to not knowing things about the women he collected.

'We went to the red light district and piggybacked on the sensations there,' She continued, enduring Mara's questioning raised eyebrow. 'Including Sally and Lorna.'

'Neither of them are accustomed to psychic connections,' Mara broke into the conversation, apparently more irked at this than Sander was. It was hardly surprising; Sander was clearly more involved in simply getting the girls back, than worrying about what they had done beforehand. Mara, on the other hand, was a capable multi-tasker, apparently, 'You could have done them some serious damage!'

'We didn't, though,' The Trine-form dismissed the point outright; it was unimportant, in the end. 'What we did do, was open up their minds a little, made them susceptible to sense sharing.'

'What's the point, here?' Sander cut in. 'We're burning time.'

'They're still connected to us,' Dulcimer sent. 'It's dwindling, but we can reach out and open them up all the way. It might slow them down some.'

'Will it hurt them?' Sander asked.

'In Selestene?' Lysithea couldn't help it when her mouth curved into a smile. 'In the red light district of Selestene? Yeah, it'll do the opposite of that.'

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

'Sally?'

The woman's cheeks had flushed heavily, breath harsh and panting through trembling lips. Her fingers fidgeted in her lap, thighs squeezed together, rubbing up and down, skin on skin under the short skirt she wore. The muscles of her abdomen tensed and relaxed, seemingly at random, as if hit by fluctuating currents of electricity. Suddenly, she squeaked.

'Come on, Sally, talk to me.'

She honestly tried, her tongue wrapping around the words before another spasm hit her, another inrush of sight and sound and sensation, a tentacle of stimulation squeezing the momentum out of her consciousness. She was transported, momentarily finding herself in some other point in the city.

Getting fucked.

This district was effectively one enormous brothel, filled with minds in the throes of ecstasy, pleasure burning like a star at the heart of Selestene. Sally had been shown a preview of this yesterday, when her mind had been opened and the city's sex-mad denizens had flowed in, filled her with borrowed orgasms and the pain, submission and sorrow that sometimes went along with them. Now, all that had returned, without the aid of the telepaths that had forced her to sit still while the district raped her senses.

The thought was more than a little frightening; all this had returned to her spontaneously... was it just a side effect, or a permanent thing? Would it fade? Or was this just how things were now, her mind opened to any influence strong enough to enter it?

But the questions soon faded, consumed by the sheer force of the feelings flowing through her brain, each one moving so fast it barely gave her enough time to process it before it slid away; Selestene screamed in climax, the chorus of experience so numerous and varied that each individual part of it was drowned out by the whole.

It was a dissonant spectacle for the mind, but a rapid acceleration for the body; a storm of fingers and tongues and... everything else, worshiping every inch of her skin, setting her atremble. Sally couldn't help the flood of wetness between her legs, nor the furious blush that hit her cheeks as her heart began to race. She was simply along for the ride, as Selestene took her body against her will.

'Sally!' Amy was still there, still talking, though Sally's fractured attentions could hardly focus on her. 'What's happening? What's going on?'

A shudder rippled down Sally's back as some illusory tongue brushed momentarily against her clit, making her thighs squeeze together, 'It's... Uh! I don't know! S-something... the aliens did to me...'

'Sense sharing...' Amy murmured, knowing all too well what Lysithea in particular could do. Her time at Nirvana had left an impact, and even without any expertise in whatever powers the aliens had, she knew full well the kind of thing Sally was experiencing, 'There's nobody around, though.'

'It's a red light district,' Sally gritted her teeth. 'Plenty of p-people...'

'Oh! Um, wow,' Amy blinked, recalling having had a hard enough time with just Sander and Mara floating around in her mind. Right in the centre of the red light district... well, it was hard to say; only Sally herself knew for sure.

'M-me and Lorna!' Sally gasped, both in realization and plain old lust. Some surprisingly sharp teeth had just closed around her nipples, before fading away, 'Don't suppose you'd know how to turn it off- ffuck!'

'What? No,' Amy couldn't help the building dread that rose through her, getting worse the more information Sally volunteered. 'You and Lorna? So she's out there all... hot?'

'I don't know! Maybe?' She panted, shuddering. 'You've been doing this the longest... y-you don't know anything that might- ugh!- help?'

Amy quickly looked away; of course she knew a way, and just by looking she could tell that, the way she was now, Sally wouldn't have minded at all. The image of being strapped down to that bed in Nirvana, fucked and toyed with, was burned into her mind; the satisfaction of that had been bone deep and shameful, something she had never admitted to since. Rory would die, if he ever found out.

But the fugue of heat Sally was undoubtedly subsumed in, Amy knew it all too well; she had barely been able to think of anything but the aching of her pussy, when it had been her turn in the barrel. The only release had been a physical one, and the growing hunger in Sally's eyes showed that she understood that all too well.

'No, there's nothing I can do,' Amy shook her head, perhaps a little too quickly. 'Just ride it out. It doesn't last.'

She knew, even as she was saying it, that it wasn't enough. It was a platitude, nothing more. Right now, Sally wasn't a thinking creature; her mind was too full of other people's thoughts- and most likely orgasms- to be generating her own. Tidal waves of cumming, splashing over the shores of her body...

... Amy wasn't even surprised when her friend leaned in suddenly and kissed her.

'Please,' When she pulled away, her voice was low and husky. One hand was now lodged between her legs, rubbing furiously, 'I need... Remember the other night? When I-'

Then her mouth was covered by Amy's once more. The redhead remembered; in the privacy of a shared room, Sally's soft fingers had brought her to a gentle, much needed climax, after hours of teasing. That night had certainly instilled a more direct form of attraction in Amy, a sexual context to the other captive that beforehand had been shrouded in a lack of consent, of fear and captivity and anguish. Sally and her kindly touch had been the first time Amy had ever even been with a woman, with any real sense of choice.

Perhaps this was just repaying a debt, but there was no reason Amy couldn't enjoy it herself too.

'I've got it, Sally,' Her voice came out almost as a purr, completely unintentional on her part, but it certainly seemed to fit the mood; the air had suddenly become thick with a sexual edge tinged with ridiculousness. There was something inherently mad about this situation; hiding in a squatter's den on the second iteration of Earth, surrounded by telepathically-enabled sex, and on the run from possibly insane kidnappers... and deciding the best course of action is to make out. Amy embraced the insanity wholeheartedly, just as she had when she had jumped in that blue box so long ago; this was something she could do to help, something she could control and consent to, a welcome relief after the past few weeks.

If there was nothing else to do but wait, then fuck.

Besides, Sally was soft and warm and reassuring, her moans so pleasant and genuine, such a contrast to the loud, screaming sex of recent days. She tasted nice, the soft tang of mint on her active, velvet tongue. Her hips seemed curved just right to fit Amy's palms.

After Sander, after Ren, Sally was a clear step up.

But even if Amy had been content to simply continue like this, Sally was not; her needs were a tad more immediate, as evidenced by the hand still working under her skirt, even as her tongue worked in Amy's mouth. When she broke away, gasping for breath, Sally's eyes followed her, questioning, desperate. Just from watching, something inside Amy flicked on; a spasm of pure Pond-ness writhed in the pit of her stomach, joining with her growing, growling arousal, and reminded her of something important.

This collar didn't fit all of the time. She was still Amelia Pond.

'I want you naked,' She held Sally at arm's length, but only for a few moments before her self control failed, and she leaned in to brush her lips along the line of her friend's chin, up to her ear. 'I want you naked, Sally Sparrow.'

'What?' Her eyes flitted to the window, but the flutter in her voice indicated that any trepidation Sally did have would be fighting a losing battle. 'Why?'

'You got to see me in the buff before,' Amy smirked, loving even this little, unstable measure of power. Sander made her question, made her feel things she never got to in her daily life, but this at least was certain. This was pure Pond; she had been able to lead Rory on just like this, she had it down to an art form. Slick, easy; make them want to do what she said. Let Sally follow on the promise of what was to come.

'It's only fair, Sally,' She continued, shrugging. It was hardly even an enticement at all; she had already seen Sally naked, of course. But the contrast was important to Amy; this had choice. This was seduction, in one form or another; the source of Sally's lust was their shared kidnappers, but playing like this transformed it from an act of utility to something almost normal.

As normal as this could get, of course.

The brunette shot Amy a pleading, helpless look, but got to her feet all the same. There was no getting out of this, and besides, in her telepathically maddened state, the risk of being seen was gorgeously erotic. Sally spent a moment considering whether that was an original thought of hers, or whether her mind had just been temporarily invaded by an exhibitionist. In the end, it didn't matter; she gave Amy what she wanted all the same.

Since coming to Selestene, the wardrobe made available to the collared girls had been severely limited, restricted to clothes made to be taken off, made to reveal and tease. Sally's dress was a premiere example of this, and it slipped down her body to the floor after the simple act of removing the straps from her shoulders. Lacking any form of underwear- another symptom of the prurient dress code Sander and his crew had enforced- this one motion left her nude, sunlight shining across her breasts and down her belly almost lovingly.

'Yeah, that about does it...' Amy mused, running her eyes up and down Sally's body with a smirk. She was flying by the seat of her pants, embracing the silly, spontaneous nature of how things were progressing, realizing even as she did so that she was behaving more and more like Sander with every passing second.

But then, there was always that delicious element of choice...

Sally moved with desperation edging her gait, throwing herself down onto the threadbare couch beside Amy, much closer than she had been the first time. By now, Amy had no sense of hesitation; she captured one of Sally's nipples between thumb and forefinger and tugged, leading the girl in for a kiss that now contained a possessive edge, reclamation of the power Amy had once wielded in a sexual context.

The new, decidedly physical pain of Amy's fingers meshed with the wash of psychic sensations, the pleasure of sex and the agony of a thousand ghostly whips and paddles and clamps, attached to every imaginable place on Sally's body. A deep and powerful quake rippled through her, as Amy forced her tongue into her mouth. It was easier to focus on the things actually happening to her; Amy's skilled fingers a far more attractive pleasure than the insubstantial ones that coursed the length of Sally. When they slipped between her thighs, Sally groaned, pushing her hips forward to meet them.

'You think Lorna's alright out there?' Amy whispered in Sally's ear, her fingernail clipping Sally's clit, with just enough pressure to draw out another shudder. 'It'll be the same for her, won't it?'

'She's a smart girl,' Sally panted, desperate for more. Just making the words without begging was a challenge, 'She'd c-come back if it was an issue... mmm...'

'You're probably right,' Amy nodded, punctuating her words by slipping inside the girl beside her for the first time. A naughty little thought occurred, and she surrendered herself to it, 'Come up here onto my lap, Sally...'

Blushing, hesitant despite how pleasant that image seemed at the moment, Sally did as she was told, form pulsing with sexual energy. Her legs shook when she stood, gratefully lowering herself onto Amy's lap, straddling her, pussy spread and open to the redhead. Amy cocked an eyebrow, grinning.

'This is pretty fun!' She said in a low voice, steadying Sally with her hands on her hips.

'It could be better still,' Sally was breathless, taking Amy's hand in hers and guiding it back between her legs, eyes pleading for the redhead's touch.

'I agree,' Amy replied, shifting her hips so she could hike up her skirt. 'I've got one of those too, Sparrow.'

Sally looked down; Amy was right, and right now her pussy was swollen and deep red, to match the light dappling of ginger hair above it. She had seen it before, but the last time had been something fevered and perverse, more about release than sensuality. This time was much the same, only in reverse; Sally was in need of release, and looking upon the same body from the other side was quite a contrast. Her gaze turned hungry very quickly, and before she knew it, she was touching Amy again, fingers sliding straight into her wetness.

The two women writhed sinuously together, abandoned for the moment to their shared, freewheeling desire. Amy could barely remember the time she had had sex that was so... normal; all the fear and the thumping darkness was gone, and there was nothing challenging about this. It was all pleasure; no part of Sally's soft form pressed against her caused Amy to second guess herself. When she put her tongue in Sally's mouth she felt no guilt in participating, no shame at being beaten down. Her finger traced the brunette's navel, and but for the sheer joy of intimate contact she felt nothing new, no conflict for the first time since coming back into Sander's clutches.

And god, it felt good...

It was a simple build, a rise, an electric climb to an orgasm they both needed. There was something almost determined about their movements; Sally's slowly circling hips had a direction to them, as though they were guiding Amy's fingers into select sweet spots inside her. In return, Amy spread her legs wider, settled down low in her seat to allow Sally the leverage she needed to curl her fingers against her g-spot. The redhead gave a low growl as Sally found the point of her pleasure, and ceased kissing her way down the brunette's neck in order to bite down. Sally's answering gasp was the sweetest music.

The taste of her skin, hot and salty, pulsing with life, bathed Amy's tongue, as the pain of her bite tipped Sally over the edge. Her wet and sticky walls contracted in on Amy's fingers, long limbs shuddering in her release, thighs squeezing Amy's hips. With every muscle Sally had tensing up, the reflexive curve of her fingers brought them into contact with a deep, rarely touched spot in Amy's pussy, ripping an orgasm from her even as Sally trembled through hers.

'More!' Sally gasped, the last spasms of climax still wracking her small frame. 'It's not... I n-need more. Please...'

'I think I can handle that,' Amy purred, head tilted back as traceries of pleasure still rippled through her.

The two women repeated the process three more times, all tongues and fingers and heated flesh. Their bodies entwined, closer and closer with each orgasm, but the telepathic assault never abated. Even as her muscles began to ache and her clit started throbbing, Sally's frayed nerves demanded more, desired another climax even as the last one left her strung out and tired. And there was always Amy, moaning and mewling and writhing beneath her, those skilled fingers working in Sally just as they must have worked in her own masturbation countless times before, sculpting each orgasm with exquisite precision. The flush in her cheeks drove Sally wild, the way she bit her lip begged for a kiss, the sheen of sweat on pale skin a maddening prospect.