Doctor Who: Panic Moon Ch. 32

'Don't worry though, I'll give you all a little warm up show first,' His voice was a rough, low scrape, seemingly directly in her ear. Below, his fingers began to move, playing over her clit, gently at first but with mounting insistence. He toyed with her in rough, unskilled, uncaring strokes, consisting mostly of pressure with none of the nuance that Sander or Fiori injected into every moment. Where the latter pair seemed to think through everything, so that each motion was a deliberate choice, Farrell's teasing was blunter, baser...

... And to her shame, Amy reacted.

Her breath shuddered in her throat, cheeks colouring as the inevitable, heavy pressures of the hand between her legs did its work, turning her insides liquid. Farrell rubbed, circled her clit, let the pads of his fingers play across the rapidly moistening lips of her pussy without ever penetrating. The watching eyes were an almost physical force, bearing down on her as unwanted pleasure brewed in her hips, leaching up through her skin as the moments passed by. There was nowhere for her to go, no escape from the lustful gazes before her, and worse, no place for her to put her own gaze that was free from them. Eye contact was too humiliating a prospect to bear, but to look away was to show weakness, accepting that she was just as vulnerable as they wanted her to be.

Amy supposed it made no difference; like it or not, she was that vulnerable, a captive not only of the Olivan but of her own body. She squirmed, muscles twitching of their own accord despite her struggles to keep her arousal restrained.

Fiori had told her why it was so easy to get her like this once, some nanite gas in the air that could recognize slave collars and would only activate within the body of those who wore them, keeping the slaves aroused and receptive and... oh god, why was it so good?

'Did you think to check with the Master before you took this one, Sir?' The voice was soft, inflected in a strange way Amy couldn't quite place, and issuing from just outside of her view. She felt Farrell's head turn, watched the eyes of her audience shift off to one side.

'Who asked you, slave?' It was strange, seeing that youthful confidence turn to venom in the space of a few seconds. But Farrell had spat the last word as though it were bitter, somehow their interlocutor's fault and not a cruel symptom of the sickened world they inhabited. But there was hesitance there too, a slight wavering tone that suggested to Amy less than total confidence in his latest actions, a notion all but confirmed as he added grudgingly, 'What do you mean, anyway?

'I mean that she is here for routine care, Sir. That her presence here was always meant to be temporary,' The words were delicate, clearly carefully phrased. Even through the softly spoken, submissive tones, Amy could detect something... no, not stronger, but smarter than was being let on. 'In fact, she is to be brought back to the Master once she is finished. He sent me to ensure it.'

'Oh did he now?' Oh, that had put him off guard. Amy relished the feeling, though it was scant, petty vengeance after what had happened- what was still happening- to her. In spite of the distraction Farrell continued to work between her legs, the motion rote and automatic. With a sense of creeping black dread Amy realized that the distraction hadn't been a reprieve for her either.

She was going to cum.

'Please may I cum?' The words spilled out of her mouth, her will breaking after only a few seconds of trying to restrain herself. There was no point in trying, and facing an unpermitted orgasm would be far worse than the blow to her pride of just buckling under.

Farrell barely took heed, his eyes drifting back to Amy for only a scant few moments, just long enough to mumble disinterestedly, 'Yeah, fine, do it.'

Despite his apparent lack of care at her predicament, Amy noted that Farrell continued his stimulation anyway, evidently driven by some baseline cruelty that wound its way around the personalities of every guard here. Even so, with permission granted Amy felt herself slip, sensation rising to meet her as her treacherous flesh continued with its dirty work. Her legs trembled, her knees went weak as her pussy clenched on nothing, climax gripping her hips. Amy moaned, panted as she came...

...And yet, the conversation continued as though she wasn't there.

'You are welcome to check with him, Sir,' The unseen voice said, as Amy squirmed and panted. Through the fog of arousal she registered the slight modulation to her tone, the somewhat shocked notes at the idea that she could be anything but truthful. 'After I take her, if you please. I doubt either of us wish to be facing the Master after delaying him in his business, after all.'

'I'll be damned if I'm going to take orders from a slave, bitch,' Farrell growled, as Amy's thighs clenched around his invasive hand. 'I-'

'Look at her for a second, Farrell,' One of the guards ahead of Amy cut in. She pointed, 'She ain't one of the penny-ante girls. She's the Tau Forest girl, remember her? The one who came here in golden chains?'

'That's right, dude,' Offered another guard. 'She's probably serious...'

'I am, in fact,' Came the voice again. 'And I would point out, Sir, that the floor is resplendent with available slaves if you feel short-changed by this exchange. So I must ask: is this one in particular worth your job?'

'Fine,' Farrell growled after a moment. Turning, he pushed Amy toward the now visible interrupter, the last aftershocks of orgasm still racing up and down her spine. She stumbled, knock-kneed and dripping, before coming to a stop. Bent over and hunched to correct for her sudden momentum, Amy looked up into the face of her rescuer.

There were three, in truth; all women, all nude bar for their collars, but not one species in common between them. Two aliens flanked the woman in the centre, and it was she who drew the eye, commanded the lion's share of the attention. She was human, proud and strong in her bearing despite her nudity. Hair the colour of honey washed down her back in amber waves, easily reaching down below her ass, caressing pale, milky skin with every tiny move. She seemed composed entirely of curves, graceful inclines from thigh to hip to waist to the gentle swelling of small, achingly perfect breasts capped with nipples so pink and alluring that even Amy desired to take them into her mouth.

The collar around her neck was thinner and lighter than Amy's, with two strange metallic prisms set at either side of her throat, and it only completed the picture; this woman seemed built, from the ground up, for sexual submission. She wore her collar like queens wore crowns.

Amy recognized her, they had... worked together before, but here, without the performance or the lurid, enforced sexuality of the stage she seemed completely different. Here she was at ease, able to take on her true bearing, and it was in that moment that Amy realized she hadn't even learned her name before.

Once the show had finished, they had both just been drawn away into the maelstrom of hands and cocks and never ending sex...

At her side were a pair of aliens in a similar state. One was a rather fetching shade of blue, traceries of luminous azure moving in intricate, vaguely biological patterns under her skin. Her hair was cut into a short bob, and it glowed a vibrant neon, the light starting out dimly at the root and increasing in intensity as it reached the end. The tips were like tiny sparks, flowing with her movements. Eyes like placid, tame fire peered out from under a flickering fringe.

The other towered over the rest, composed of willowy, fragile-looking limbs. Strange curling growths swept out from her legs and arms, like thorns from a rose. Bone white and edged with red, there was a dangerous, imposing kind of attraction to her, aided in no small part by her physical stature. A quartet of wings, like fluttering, violet petals, lay flat against her back, pulsing gently with her movements.

'Come now, new one,' The blonde extended a hand. 'We'd best be leaving, let the guards to their... work.'

The pause was beautifully calculated, barely there at all but more than enough to dig the barb in. Amy stood up properly, let herself follow the trio, as anyone that was heading away from where she had just been was worth keeping up with. They walked and, once they had drawn out of earshot, the blonde began speaking again.

'Don't look back, don't hesitate, just walk,' Her voice flowed, gentle and mellifluous. 'They're watching.'

'Fiori isn't expecting me back,' Amy said.

'Nor will the guards check with him,' The woman replied. 'Would you ask the Master whether it was okay to be interfering with his stock? Besides, one girl is much the same as any other, once you've worked here long enough.'

'So you...?' Amy tried to form the words but ended up leaving the question hanging. After all the time she had spent in the collar, the very concept of being rescued by strangers from anything had become too ridiculous to contemplate.

'Helped you out,' Offered the tall one, in a voice like the rustling of leaves. 'Help you find what's best.'

'You'll have to forgive Rho,' The blonde said. 'She's not used to communicating via sound. But there'll be time for all that once we're somewhere a tad... safer. Please, do come back to my room.'

Amy let herself be led down one of the branching corridors off of the main hall, and through a random door, one of many that lined the walls on either side. The room beyond was much like Amy's own; a small bedroom, dimly lit with a chilled blue mood lighting. The bed was the only notable furnishing, and it was large enough to accommodate several people at once, the high-tech metal loops hanging from the headboard hinting that it was used for more than just sleep.

'You have one just like it, no?' The blonde, apparently the leader of the group, asked once she had closed the door. 'All the "high value" slaves do. We're worth more, and so we're kept in little boxes. The throwaways get shared accommodation.'

Amy blinked, took a moment to analyse the odd mix of matter-of-factness and disgust present in that last sentence, 'I do. High value, though?'

'Oh yes, we're all considered rarities here,' She replied. 'And it's surprising what some people will pay for novelty. The starways are wide open, and our fetishes only expanded with them. Thus,' And here she gestured to the tall alien. 'Rhohendra is a Florian humanoid, who reside only in the Grand Stems of the Omega Forest. Aiahn,' She inclined her head to the faintly glowing blue figure beside her. 'is a High Conductress of the Achelveri Nebula-'

'Obtained at inordinate price with truly ludicrous effort, I assure you,' Aiahn cut in, voice sizzling with bitter electrical discharge. Amy realized she must be of the same species as the alien who had accosted her outside.

'Yes indeed,' The blonde nodded. 'And I myself am Cherami San Josephine, Regent Queen of the Tau Forest. Amazing, how many of our clients wish to see a queen on her knees...'

'I don't think they're that discerning,' Amy muttered, recalling the hooting, catcalling mass of the crowd on the main floor, lost to their lusts and taking them out on any soft flesh they could find.

'Oh, they are,' Cherami said. 'Some are. Some, for example, are willing to pay quite absurd sums of money to obtain the time and attentions of a traveller from the twenty-first century. She of innocent body and even more pure mind, for whom the myriad ideas and kinks of the future could not have occurred. She who can be moulded by them... your shock, my dear, your surprise at what your relative future can do to you is worth much, to a certain kind of client.'

'This place runs on such mind games,' Aiahn sighed. 'How improper.'

'This is all useful information and all,' Amy said, her voice still low and almost fearful, as though whatever safety she had been offered here could be yanked away at any moment. 'But why did you pull me off of the floor, back there? Um, not that I don't appreciate it...'

'Ah, yes,' Cherami said. 'Because you're new, dear. You're new, you're young... and I can see it in your eyes, you need to be taught the most valuable lesson one can learn at our little place of business.'

'Do I, now?' Amy tilted her head, a sort of wary curiosity brewing. It wasn't every day that a trio of nude alien women talked their way past the security that held you and escaped to a bedroom, after all. It was only the location Amy found herself in that made her think twice.

'Yes. Or this place will break you,' Eyes filled with crystal clarity flicked to Amy's. 'It will shatter you like glass, just as it has countless others before you. I'd rather not see that happen, dear. And so I'd like to teach you... though it's your choice either way. One of the few you'll get, so... savour it. Make the right one.'

'And the right one is-?' Amy said.

'The one where you stay here and let me pamper you for a bit, yes,' Cherami nodded. 'Not everyone here is instantly out to get you, Amy. Just most of them.'

'Just most of them, you've got that right,' Amy said bitterly. 'What is with this place?'

'It simply does not care,' Aiahn cut in. 'That's the one fact about life here one should always remember: the Olivan just does not care.'

'Sit, my dear,' Cherami patted the bed beside her, shifting up the bed in the process. 'We have much to discuss, and potentially little time to do so. Work beckons constantly, after all.'

'If you can call it that,' Rho rustled.

'Yes, yes,' The blonde waved a hand vaguely. 'Lucky for us, we have a few tricks at our disposal...'

When Amy didn't move, didn't take Cherami's invitation, the woman stood and reached down and took her hand. With a little gentle direction, Amy sat side by side with her, so close that the bare skin of their hips touched. Normally that would have been enough to stir at least a little internal squirming, discomfort at being naked around a stranger, but there was nothing now, to Amy's not inconsiderable distress. She liked to think that perhaps there was just something disarming about Cherami's presence, but the deep and traitorous voice at her core spoke of a different truth: she was getting used to being like this.

When Cherami leaned over and kissed her, tongue sliding confidently into Amy's mouth, and she thought nothing of it for several seconds, that only made it worse.

'Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?' Amy forced herself to pull away, shaking her head and, in an effort to separate Cherami from her, accidentally placing a hand on the woman's breast. The mixed signal did not go unnoticed, judging from the sly look on the blonde's face, but she seemed unperturbed.

'Oh, come now,' She said. 'How long do you hope to keep this idea that sex is not to simply be taken? Here, of all places? Just relax, and perhaps recognize that I may be the one person in the entire club to care at all about your pleasure too, dear.'

Her hands moved, crossing behind Amy's head to give her a better position with which to drag the redhead closer. Again she planted her lips on Amy's own, but softer this time, not hesitant, but as though waiting for some form of permission. The sheer headiness of having a choice in the matter, regardless of how small it was, gave Amy reason to pause.

'Besides,' Cherami murmured, so close that her breath tickled Amy's face. 'You know what they do to us, here. How they dope us up through the air. How valuable are a few moments of relief, really?'

Amy felt the moan bubble up from her chest, as Cherami's nipples brushed against her own, and she only just caught it before it reached the open air, dragging it back down into her. It would be so easy, especially in this chemically induced state of receptiveness, to just let the situation flow, to allow Cherami control of the situation and just... let go.

But she couldn't. Not here, and not now, when for the first time in weeks she had been offered some modicum of choice. She was still Amelia Pond, and she would struggle because what she had, she kept.

'We have time, and my companions have certain skills,' Cherami practically purred, hands drifting with the slow deliberation of one willing to stop at a moment's protestation. 'Aiahn is electrically charged, her touch is... quite vivid. If you're prepared for it, that is. And Rho's abilities are rather more relevant to the situation at hand...'

Another kiss, the girl's soft body pressed against Amy, the light metallic clink of their collars touching together the only reminder that anything was amiss here. Gently, Cherami positioned Amy, guided her to lie back, to open herself to the blonde's attentions.

'Now, just sit back and relax, let me show you what I need to,' She said, planting another teasing kiss on the line of Amy's jaw.

She whimpered.

'Okay...' She relented, let one hand drift to Cherami's back, a gentle pressure there bringing her closer. What was the point in denying this, in throwing up roadblocks in front of the few potential allies she might have here? What would it accomplish, when her entire world had shrunk down to sex anyway? At least this was something she could control, that she could derive enjoyment from.

'I'm glad,' Cherami whispered. 'Since I only want to make things easier for you...'

She gestured to the two aliens, who had remained still at either corner of the bed. Seeing this, the pair moved; Aiahn sat at the foot of the bed, the glow of her skin increasing slightly where her weight pressed down on the sheet. The dim light of the room took on a dreamlike azure cast, constant shifting threads of light making patterns in the glow.

The towering Rho, in contrast, merely stood at ease to one side, close enough to touch but still apart from the action, when compared to the others. One of her hands rested on the headboard of the bed, those graceful curving thorns catching the light of her companion, transforming into sapphire-edged scythes in the night. Her eyes glimmered with intelligence, peering out from a pale, tapering face, alien thoughts flickering behind them in a way that Amy found vaguely surreal.

'I want to show you something, Amy,' Cherami said, her mouth lingering on Amy's neck. 'But to do that... Well, to do it with sufficient impact, I would employ the talents of my tall, Florian friend, here.'

'What do you mean?' Amy asked, voice quavering.

'Rhohendra's thorns secrete an alternating set of chemicals that interact with the nervous system in some interesting ways,' Cherami answered. 'It's a part of their reproductive process. Fascinating, really; a form of direct memetic transfer, integral in a species that doesn't communicate nearly as much as we humans do. But it works on Terrans too, in a way that I think you'll find rather instructive. Just one prick, that's all we'll need...'

Amy felt her hand being lifted, and fought back just before it was put into contact with Rho's. This was all moving a little too fast...

'Trust me, dear,' Cherami's free hand had wandered- oh, had it ever- and to Amy's surprise she felt the woman's soft fingers between her legs before she even knew what was happening. There was skill to her touch, a practised ease with an obvious source, and when the pads of her fingers slid across her clit, a full body shudder went through Amy, 'I'll be right here, and if your trust is misplaced... what, exactly, have you lost? I'm either no more an enemy than anyone else here at the Olivan, or I'm a friend just waiting for your acceptance. But I can't harm you, not with this collar around my neck. You don't belong to me, dear girl...'