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Doctor Who: Amy, Captured

By: Kurokami



The button was pressed...

Amy Pond awoke, not with a start, but gently, as if awakening from a long nap. For a minute, she was groggy as the curtain of sleep fell away and the comfortable warmth around her cradled her still addled mind. It wasn't long, however, before she realized that something was terribly wrong.

The room was unfamiliar. In her travels with the Doctor, Amy had become accustomed to unfamiliar rooms, but the fact that she had not exited the TARDIS to get to this one was cause for concern. And since neither the Doctor nor Rory was anywhere to be seen, the concerns just kept piling up.

She was also bound. As her head wheeled wildly, fiery red hair flailing, she saw that she was shackled to a large cross-shaped device. Her legs were together, bound in the same solid metal ring, and her arms were splayed wide, contained in two sturdy manacles. The whole set up was suspended three feet off the ground.

She was facing a window, the thick glass displaying a panoply of stars winking gently against the cold void of space. The left corner of the window was playing host to a white planetary mass, just barely visible if Amy craned her head through its limited range of movement.

'She's awake, sir,' came a voice from beyond Amy's sight. It was female, and ice tinkled on every syllable.

'Excellent, Mara. It's good to see the system works,' Came a second, male voice. 'It cost enough, anyway.

'The connection is stable, sir,' Came yet a third voice, another girl. 'We are ready.'

'Shimizu, you're a genius.'

'What's going on here?' Amy called out, trying to keep her fear out of her voice.

'Talking already?' Said the male voice. 'That's ahead of schedule. Rotate her.'

There was the click of a switch being pressed, and Amy found the motors that suspended her prison whirring to life. She turned, her captors eventually visible to her.

At either side of the large, steel-grey room, the pair of women worked at computer consoles, the purpose of which Amy could only guess at. One was a tall, attractive blonde with ice-blue eyes that glanced contemptuously at Amy, when they deigned to look her way at all. She was wearing a black button-down shirt and pants that were just tight enough to accentuate her dancer's curves and contrasted beautifully with her pale skin.

The other was a tiny Japanese woman with constantly moving dark eyes and a pair of dark red lips that were twisted into a wry smile. Everything about her expression belied a sense of vague amusement at the scene that was playing out around her. She was wearing a much more colorful outfit; a pink t-shirt with a happy cartoon banana on it and jeans so tight they must have been painted onto her graceful, well-muscled legs.

But it was the man between them that demanded Amy's attention. 

He was seated in a futuristic looking chair and glared up at the bound Amy with a combination of anticipation and intense coldness that sent a chill down her spine. He slouched low in his seat, but if he were to stand tall he would have been almost six-feet of wiry muscle and unbearably hip clothing. His short black hair was spiked in an impossibly complicated hairstyle, and he split into a wide grin as Amy watched him.

'Hello, Miss Pond. So nice that we could finally meet in person.' He said in a voice that was altogether too friendly. 'I am Sander Hackett, but please, call me Sander.'

'Why am I here?' Amy asked, again straining to sound relaxed. 'Where is this place? Where's the Doctor?'

'So many questions...' Sander shook his head. 'Well, you're here to help me fulfill a certain endeavor that has been taking up much of my time for the past thirteen years. As to where we are... We're currently on an asteroid in orbit around Carcer, the moon of the planet Vesperia. The year is 3375, by the way. I gather it can be very confusing, traveling through time. And yes, I did pluck you from the TARDIS.'

'How do you know all this? And... could you let me down?' Amy added, hopefully. Panic was rising through her, but she couldn't become a slave to it. This Sander guy said he needed her help; maybe he could be receptive to requests.

'Oh, I couldn't do that,' Sander laughed. 'Not yet, anyway. You're very important to me, Miss Pond. Amy, I suppose. We'll be seeing a lot of each other, now that I think about it. You see, Amy, you're here to help me get my revenge on the Doctor.'

'Oh, hell,' Amy murmured. This didn't sound good...

'He will find me, you know.' She said aloud. 'He always does.'

'I love it when you talk. Your accent is simply charming,' Sander smiled. 'And no, the Doctor will not be coming to your rescue. I took you from the TARDIS with a little temporal displacement device that myself and my assistants here have been working on for some time. Completely untraceable, you know. I made sure. And do you see that camera over there?' Sander pointed to a lens jutting from one of the walls. 'That's transmitting straight to the TARDIS. With a delay, of course, so that we can edit any footage that may compromise our location. After all, it wouldn't be revenge unless he saw it.'

'Why are you doing this?' Amy said. Her wrists were beginning to go numb. There was very little below her to support her weight, and she was taking an uncomfortable portion of it on her wrists and shoulders.

Sander's eyes grew dark, and his face twisted under the weight of a new animosity. He stalked from his chair over to the prostrate Amy, running his hand down the side of her face. She jerked away from his touch.

'I'll tell you. You have a right to know why this is happening to you, especially later. To know that this is his fault.'

Sander turned his back to Amy, and gestured to the blonde, 'Mara!' he exclaimed. Mara tapped in a number of commands. A segment of the floor in front of Amy drew back, and light poured out, arranging itself into a holographic display. The words "Hackett Industries" floated before Amy in large, black font. 

'I used to rule Vesperia, the planet below us. The government of Earth funds the initial colonization of worlds like it, but they hand off the infrastructure of them to private organizations. I was the CEO of Hackett Industries, still am, I suppose, for what good it does me, and Vesperia was given to my company to run as we saw fit. Hackett Industries was a military contractor; we made combat robots and army drones. With that kind of firepower at my disposal, there was no force on the whole planet that could refuse my will. Vesperia was mine, its cities were mine, everything was mine.'

'Sounds lovely for everyone else,' Amy snapped, without thinking. It probably wasn't smart to antagonize this man, but she couldn't help it.

'Your accent is becoming less inherently charming, Amy. Any further outbursts will be punished. Vesperia had an indigenous population in the form of the Vespers, a humanoid race that, in time, became assimilated into the expansion efforts.'

'You turned the natives into slaves.' Amy said icily.

'Shimizu, punish her.'

The Japanese woman tapped at her console. There was a loud thumping noise as a small charge of electricity raced through Amy, making her cry out in pain. Stars danced before her eyes.

'Mild pain reaction achieved. The estimates were good, sir.' The Japanese woman, Shimizu, said.

'Excellent.' Sander turned to Amy, his face glowing eerily in the holographic light. 'That was probably a nice dramatic shot for the Doctor, too, wherever he is. He's probably furiously tracing our signal as we speak. Unfortunately for you the signal is being bounced randomly across time and space. I've had a long time to observe the Doctor at work and prepare for this day. He will never find us.'

'Why do you hate him so much?' Amy groaned, still a little dazed.

'He came to Vesperia, you know. Thirteen years ago. Probably longer, by his reckoning.' Sander gestured to Shimizu, who pressed some more buttons. The image on the projector changed, 'That was what he looked like at the time. He's changed his face twice, since then. Even so, he felt he needed to stop me and free the people under my command, human and Vesper alike. I was unprepared.'

On screen, the Doctor was standing before an immense computer. On screen, the words "System Failure" flashed in warning.

'He disabled my robots, left me defenseless. I hadn't considered human soldiers. They have a pesky habit of wanting to get paid. I fled Vesperia as an exile. The Doctor cost me everything I had.'

'So, what?' Amy said, her temper getting the better of her again. Her pretty features twisted with anger, 'You were a petty dictator and the Doctor removed you from power? You don't like it, so you kidnap me?'

'The Doctor took everything from me; my land, my money, my power...'

'No more than you deserved.' Amy retorted.

'My wife.'

Amy gasped, her eyes widening. The images on screen had changed into a violent riot on the streets of a vast city. Vesperia was burning.

'I got away because I was at home,' Sander said in a hollow voice. 'Elsa was out shopping. Normally the drones would have protected her, but they went down when the Doctor was "saving" everyone. My wife became a prime target for the angry mob. They tore her apart.'

Sander's fists clenched, teeth grinding together. The holographic display switched off, and the room suddenly seemed to be bereft of any light.

'My wife died, and I became a monster. A Genocide. Because at the same time the humans of Vesperia were toppling my establishment, they were killing what was left of the Vespers.'

'What?!' Amy exclaimed, shocked.

'Oh yes!' Sander said in an eerie calm. 'They were still human, my subjects. They still hated the Other enough to want to be alone of Vesperia. The Vespers were just barely tolerated because my drones were protecting them! They were valuable, but apparently only to me! I get blamed for my own reign, and for the genocidal rampage that followed my disposal. In the records of history, the name of Sander Hackett is reviled.'

'How can that...' Amy began. 

'You see, Amy? That is the truth of the aid the Doctor gives! He swans in, so full of mercy for those who can't help themselves. Then he fixes everything... And then he leaves. And the consequences of his actions fall on the shoulders of those he leaves behind. He never stays behind and watches. What he intends and what actually occurs are two different things, once he's flown away to the next adventure. I was just a pit stop on his way to something more important. His arrogance cost me everything, and the Vespers, too.'

Amy opened her mouth. She closed it again, trying to marshal her thoughts into a coherent sentence. 'You were still a dictator. You had to be stopped.'

'THAT DOESN'T MATTER!' Sander bellowed, his voice so loud that even Mara and Shimizu jumped. Amy shrank back against her restraints.

'He doesn't know what's best for everyone, The Doctor.' Sander spat. 'He's not god, he has no reason to act otherwise. But now we come to the really tricky part. Once I had resolved myself to revenge, how do I go about it? What could possibly hurt the Doctor as much as he hurt me? It's tricky, that. I can't just kill him. He would merely change his face. If I kill his companions, then he just moves on. He's lost countless friends, and he always moves on. I've been watching for some time: Rose Tyler, Martha Jones, Donna Noble... The Doctor never travels alone, but once he changes his face he forgets all about them. Like they're nothing.'

Sander was pacing the floor incessantly now, his boots ringing out tinnily on the steel below.

'And then he changed again, and found you. Young and pretty, and recently married, to boot! The answer came to me then. Don't let him forget. Death just means that the memory can fade. Keep the Doctor keenly aware of the agonies that his friend is going through, but ensure that he is unable to stop it.'

Amy swallowed nervously. She hadn't thought that it was possible, but this situation had taken a turn for the worse.

'You should know that you will never be rescued. I intend to keep you forever. You're just another casualty of the Doctor and his wonderful charity.' Sander said.

'W-what are you going to do to me?' Amy stammered.

'You're so young, and beautiful,' Sander turned to look Amy in the eye. 'You're going to be my sex slave, Amy.'

'Like hell I am!' Amy shouted.

'Oh, I never expected you to like it, my dear. That's sort of the point. The Doctor strikes me as the kind of person who doesn't exactly value his own life. He cares more about others than himself, especially those he travels with. Originally I was just going to kill the Doctor's current companion, but when I saw that she looked as good as you do, I polled my associates here, and we unanimously decided that banging you would be more fun. I could hurt you- actually, I might anyway- I could kill you, and that would hurt the Doctor. But if I keep you as my pet, if I fuck you, well... That's something he's never encountered before, I'll bet. And he's still got your new husband on board the TARDIS with him, isn't that a nice bonus? They'll both watch every minute, as I use you, humiliate you, whatever. And the Doctor will blame himself, I'm sure.' Sander said bitterly. 'His type always do. But there will be no rescue for you, my pet. He won't be able to sacrifice himself to save you. He'll just have to watch on. That fucker will remember this, I swear it.'

'You're going to rape me? To get to the Doctor? You're insane! I won't let you!' As she said it, Amy realized how stupid it sounded, and how vulnerable her position was.

'Not just me,' Sander grinned manically. 'Mara and Shimizu, too. They both lost out in the Vesperian rebellion too. We have you all to ourselves. Such fun we'll have. Lower her, Mara.' 

The cross whirred as Amy was slowly lowered to the ground, and then maneuvered into a horizontal position. Sander appeared above her.

'Why delay it any longer? Thirteen years is enough. I'll start by breaking you in, but I want you to remember whose fault this is. The Doctor started this.'

Sander produced a long silver knife and, without fanfare or ceremony, began to carefully drag it down the front of Amy's blue t-shirt. The fabric gave way easily, and with a slight tearing sound as the knife traveled down her collarbone, between her breasts and down her stomach. Sander moved the two halves of her shirt aside, and Mara and Shimizu joined him to admire her body.

Amy's stomach was smooth and taut with stress, the flawless, creamy skin aching to be touched. Unbidden, Shimizu reached out a hand to stroke her bare skin, but Sander slapped her hand back.

'She's mine first. You'll get your chance.'

'Please don't do this...' Amy moaned, closing her eyes in despair.

'Oh, Mara...' Sander sighed in exasperation. 'Gag her, will you?'

Mara slipped aside, and Amy felt her moving above her head. Mara's strong hand gripped Amy's jaw, and a red ball gag was forced between her lips, and tied around the back of her head. Amy moaned through the gag, a sound that seemed to be entirely too pleasurable for the three standing around her.

'She sounds even sweeter now,' Shimizu observed with a cheeky smile.

'Very true,' Sander murmured. He made a few more cuts to Amy's sleeves, and was able to pull her shirt entirely free of her body. He discarded it into a trash bin.

'Won't be wearing anything but what we allow from now on,' Mara grinned toothily. 

Amy's bra covered breasts rose and fell with every increasingly panicked breath. Sander savored the movement of them, admiring the elegant black lace of her bra before cutting through the material between the cups with a little "ta-da" sound. The bra, Amy's last protection against these madmen, fell away. She struggled uselessly against the thick steel shackles that kept her wrists in place.

Amy's breasts were perfect high-b cup numbers, remaining firm and round despite her horizontal position. Her little pink nipples grew erect in the artificially cold air, and Amy flushed with shame and turned her head away.

Sander's hand drifted out absently and came to rest of the bare skin of Amy's knee, sliding up the inside of her thigh almost dreamily. He removed it before his fingers traveled up her short denim skirt. His palm rounded the smooth curve of her hip, up past her belt and on to her stomach. His fingers tickled inside the perfect roundness of her navel causing her to squeal in pained laughter- to Sander's surprise, Amy was very ticklish- before traveling up her chest to scrape the underside of her breast.

Soon, his palm hovered over her stiff nipple, kneading and fondling the sensitive flesh. Tears welled in Amy's beautiful eyes as Sander showed every sign of relishing her predicament.

'You may join.' Sander said in a quiet voice. Mara and Shimizu gleefully joined in, their hands exploring her body in the same way Sander had, running up her perfect waist, legs and hips. The two girl's hands would only rarely contact her breasts, which seemed to be Sander's domain alone. He spent time caressing each perfect tit, toying with them in a variety of ways. His thumbs brushed against her nipples, playing with them and causing a flush of embarrassed heat to flow through Amy.

Her tears were running freely now as she was molested, tiny moans and breathless whimpers escaping her juicy red lips as they wrapped around the big ball gag. An insistent wet pressure had been added to her breasts the moment Amy squeezed her eyes closed. She looked down, and moaned in despair: on one side, Sander was sucking and licking her nipple. On the other, Shimizu was doing the same.

Amy's sobs increased in volume as an insistent heat and pressure began to build in the pit of her stomach. The weight of her wedding ring, still poised on her ring finger, seemed tremendous. If she craned her neck, she could see it glinting in the artificial glow. Sander had apparently thought of everything, doubtless he had left her wedding band on to humiliate and shame her even further.

Sander's hand had roamed to the buckle of her belt, the metal glinting coldly in the halogen light as Amy was slowly stripped down. Her belt was pulled off, joining her shirt and bra in the trash. Her skirt was cut away, powerless against the insistent blade of Sander's knife. Mara and Shimizu continued to caress her bare skin, goose bumps drawn in the wake of their touch.

For Sander's part, things were going very well. He had designed this initial scenario to be visually dramatic; the knife was probably unnecessary, but Sander could only imagine that it lent a certain danger and visual punch to the proceedings. After all, it wouldn't be right to bore the viewing audience.

He imagined the Doctor, trying furiously to stop what was happening, following the trail of dead-ends and false turns that Sander had built across the entirety of the universe. The technology was revolutionary, but it was amazing what a person could do given the correct motivation. Everything on this asteroid had been purpose built to thwart the Doctor and his TARDIS.

He watched as Amy's skirt parted under his knife, flung to the sides of the table by the broken elastic. Mara's surprisingly strong hands plucked the skirt out from under Amy's pert, perfect ass.

And there she was, clad only in thin black panties, looking just... wonderful. Sander stopped for a moment to admire his captive. His eyes traveled the entirety of her sweeping, elegant curves, down the pristine skin of her hourglass waist to her long, well-toned legs. Tied down as she was, splayed and vulnerable, Amy Pond looked positively breathtaking. Sander contemplated lifting her back up into the air again, to give the camera a better look at her, but decided against it.

'Well now,' Sander grinned, pointing at the camera. 'Care to smile for the Doctor, Amy? He's getting an eyeful, probably, but I'm only just getting started.'


Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 02



Both the planet and its moon were rising, from the perspective of the asteroid. It painted the interior of the lab in soft white light, which Shimizu admired from her seat by the window. Her eyes had a dreamy, relaxed look about them as her mind wandered over the events of the last hour. As it finally settled on the image of Amy, bound naked in the other room. They had moved her, of course, but that image had looked too good for Shimizu to want to give up in a hurry.

Mara, on the other hand, was absorbed in the contents of a grey metal tray on the central lab bench. She leaned over the low standing bench, her long blonde hair falling like a golden curtain around her face. The device fascinated her, and her blue eyes searched every angle of it, short of actually touching it or picking it up. Her slightly upturned nose crinkled as her soft mouth split into a wide grin.

'So... that's it, huh?' She said, scratching the back of her head.

'The fabrication took less time than we thought,' Shimizu answered without turning her head from the cosmos beyond the glass. 'Of course, it's up to the boss as to when we actually use the thing. I wouldn't blame him if he wanted to hold off for a while.' 

'Well, sure,' Mara turned to a large screen that dominated the far wall. 'Seems like the good Doctor is still chasing a dead end. Whatever keeps him busy, I guess.'

On the screen, a stylized map of the universe spread out from one end to the other. A complex breadcrumb trail snaked its way across every inch of the map, and at one end a cartoon police box, a little chibi-TARDIS, was slowly following it. At the far end of the map, separate from the false trail, cartoon representation of Mara, Shimizu and Sander alternately laughed at the police box, or menaced a tiny, panicked cartoon of Amy Pond. 

Sure, the map was a little silly, but it did serve a valuable purpose in depicting exactly how far along the Doctor had gotten in tracing the diverted video-link of Amy's captivity. Even in the worst-case scenario, it was still a nice early warning system.

On a second, smaller screen, surveillance footage of Amy's new cell streamed live. Technically, Mara was on guard duty right now, but it wasn't exactly like Amy had anywhere to go.

On screen, Amy was making use of the well-furnished shower, and the cameras were positioned so that no angle was impossible. A lecherous grin stole over Mara's face. It was kind of frustrating having Amy so close for her... use, but to be forbidden to act on her lust, but Sander was the man with the plan and, more importantly, the money to see it through. Mara gave a guffaw, and settled in to watch Amy's unwitting little show.

Vesperia was burning. Throughout the city, his robotic drones were failing, and the citizens were rioting. And through it all, the Doctor watched. Amid the flames, the Doctor watched.

'I tried to warn you...' he said, in a voice filled with an equal mix of pity and disappointment. Sander's hands balled into fists, yet he found himself incapable of leaping down the intruder's throat and tearing him several new ones.

His wife's phone, not even giving him her answering machine. The violent mob pounding down the doors of his house. Elsa's body, lying lifeless in the street as a news crew filmed the riot in progress. It had been a very dramatic shot.

Sander's eyes snapped open as the realization that it was, yet again, a dream, stole over him. He sat up and eyed the clock by his bedside; three in the morning. Of course, since the asteroid that Sander had built his new home on didn't strictly have a day-night cycle, the twenty-four our Terran time keeping system he used was really just a way of figuring out when he needed to sleep.

He was forced to replay his own fall from grace in his dreams every night. He had thought that it would stop once he had begun his revenge, but...

His hand swept his unruly fringe from his eyes as his other hand searched for the special panel on the wall. The screen panel filled up with light, and Sander was treated to the same footage of Amy taking a shower. His worldview immediately lightened. He might have the same recurring nightmare every night, but now he had a new toy to entertain him; one that was practically designed to keep him awake at night.

He slipped out of bed and hastily pulled on a shirt. Some signs were too obvious to ignore...

Amy Pond had awoken to find herself in a new room. She was still naked, but she was overjoyed to find that she was no longer bound to that horrible metal table. Mobility was certainly a step up from where she had been.

She sat up, still a little tender from her first meeting with Sander, and looked around. She seemed to be in a well-furnished one-room apartment. The walls and floor were the same steely grey as the other room had been, but the overall atmosphere was much improved. She was sitting on a large, soft bed (with a giant headboard that Amy eyed suspiciously. She had been around the block enough to know what could be so easily chained to headboards like that one.) The far corner featured a shower cubicle, toilet and sink lined up in a row. There was also a fridge, some kind of futuristic microwave thingy, and a wardrobe. 

A needlepoint hung from one wall, depicting the words "Home Sweet... Prison Cell."

New things aside, however, Amy got up and ran for the door. It was exactly surprising that it was locked, but it had still been worth a try.

She found that she was ravenously hungry, and a quick inspection of the fridge revealed that it was full of food, the closest to hand of which was a tray of sandwiches that Amy quickly wolfed down. Hunger sated, the next item of business was trying to wash away a little of the unpleasantness of Sander's attentions.

Modesty was obviously not an option here; camera lenses watched silently from every corner of the ceiling, and besides, those three bastards had seen literally everything there was to see anyway. Amy slipped into the shower and blasted herself with a jet of relaxingly warm water. 

Of course, no amount of cleaning would erase what had already happened to her, but that didn't mean that Amy wasn't going to give it a damn good try. She lounged under the water for some time, feeling as though she could maybe forget, just for a little while, the dire nature of what was outside this room.

She left the shower, wrapped in an amazingly fluffy towel, to explore the contents of the wardrobe. Part of her hoped for Narnia beyond the aluminum doors, but what she found was racks upon racks of clothes. The selection was deeply disappointing; from Amy's perspective, but she could see how Sander's mind was working. 

These clothes were designed to be torn off in a fit of passion. To be tied around wrists, or wadded up and stuck in mouths. They were designed for sex, basically.

There was lingerie en masse, racks heaped high with rack-revealing shirts, rows of fuck-me heels, everything an (admittedly high-class) escort could want.

Feeling that revealing clothes were better than no clothes at all, Amy delved into the wardrobe and came up with something halfway protective to wear. When she was done, she inspected herself in the floor-length mirror beside the wardrobe.

'Not bad...' She sighed quietly. Finding underwear that wasn't revealing had been an exercise in futility, so she hadn't even tried. She had thrown on the simplest black lingerie she could find, and simply hoped she could escape without being forced to show it off. A black skirt encased her hips and thighs, billowing around her knees in a way that practically asked for it to be hiked up over her hips. Her breasts had been squeezed into a tight, midriff-baring crimson top, and she had found a long coat with a strange feeling, yet luxurious, fur interior that at least protected some of her modesty when she wrapped it around herself. She remained barefoot, refusing to even try to squeeze into those heels, and her long red hair fell, still wet from the shower, around her shoulders.

Looking in the mirror, Amy could freely admit that the outfit made her look hot as hell, but she recognized that "hot" was something of an undesired effect around here. Whoever this Sander fellow was, he had good taste. He had probably picked these clothes especially for her.

Suddenly, there was movement outside the door. Amy's eyes narrowed as she wheeled around. Someone was coming in; this was her chance. A silently as she could, Amy positioned herself at the side of the door, and readied herself. She was outmatched three to one, and she probably couldn't take down Sander alone anyway, but she only needed a second to rush past him and out into the hallway, and out of the cell was better than inside.

The door slid open soundlessly, and Sander stepped into the room, his arms held wide expectantly. Amy leaped. 

Out in the hallway, Sander winced as he heard the thud of a human body hitting the floor. He pushed off from the wall he was leaning against and called out into the cell, 'Cute idea, darling. But cute ideas get pretty girls like you killed, if you're not careful. That was a hologram. Keep up attacking people like that, and you can expect to see a lot of them coming in here before the genuine article. Now, are you going to play nice for daddy?'

'Fuck. You.' Came the reply. Sander laughed, and stepped into the cell. The door locked behind him.

Amy sat sprawled on the steel floor, her skirt hiked up to reveal a little more of her delicious thighs than she had intended. Her damp hair fell in front of her face, half obscuring a dark, pouty expression that struck Sander as particularly attractive.

He extended a hand to pull her to her feet, 'Nice try.'

Amy scowled and ignored his offer of help, pulling herself up against the wall, 'What do you want?'

Sander shot forward, pressed himself against her. His lips covered her own in a forceful, possessive kiss. Amy tried to push him away, but the larger man, whose hands firmly gripped her hips to keep her from wriggling out of his grasp, physically outclassed her. 

The kiss broke, and Sander's eyes bored into Amy's with his curiously penetrative stare, 'You.' He said.

'You can't have me,' Amy said bitterly. It was a pointless challenge, but something in her felt she needed to offer some resistance, no matter how futile.

'You want to bet?' Sander grinned, pulling away from her to pace the floor of her cell. 'Do you like your new digs, Amy?'

'It's a step up from where you had me before,' She answered, cautiously. Now that he was away from any mention of his strange quest for revenge, Sander seemed like a different person. He seemed more relaxed, more at ease with himself. His eyes contained genuine laughter, a marked contrast from the harsh anger of their first meeting.

'Well, I couldn't keep you tied up forever, tempting as it sounds,' Sander's eyebrows wriggled suggestively. Amy almost laughed, it was so ridiculous. Sander sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, 'Amy, come here.'

Amy shook her head warily. Sander sighed in a disappointed, almost fatherly way.

'That's a pity, Amy. It really is. I had hoped that I wouldn't need to use this, but...' Sander pressed a button on a panel on his wrist. Somewhere, something beeped. 

The blow caught Amy square in the pit of her stomach, and unfolded in seconds, the pain spreading through her like fire. She gasped and doubled over as the shock juddered through her. Then, as suddenly as it was upon her, it faded away.

'W-what was that?' Amy shook as normalcy returned. Sander gave her a sad little look.

'That was the Arclight Submission System. We just call it Arclight, because the acronym is... well, you get it. It's actually a modification on a system used in Supermax prisons.' Sander stretched languorously. 'It stimulates the nerves directly. What you experienced was a level two pain reaction. Our system goes up to eleven, so, you know, watch out. And it's targeted at you, dear Amy. So long as you're within the field, I can cause you pain, or-' He pressed another button.

'Ah!'

'-Pleasure at the touch of a button. Like I said, we modified the system. Oh, and by the way...' Sander grinned naughtily. 'That was a level one pleasure reaction.'

'Holy hell!' Amy panted breathlessly.

'Like I said: Watch out.' Sander laughed. He walked over and knelt down beside Amy, 'You see? I didn't design this place just to hurt you. So don't make me use it that way. It's only a temporary leash, to make you behave in the early days. Now!'

He grabbed her by the hand and gently but firmly pulled her to her feet and jumped spryly back to the bed, 'Come over here, baby.'

Amy rolled her eyes and made her way shakily over to sit at the far end of the bed from Sander. He shook his head.

'Kneel,' He said, pointing to the space between his feet.

'Oh, I can see where this is going...' Amy sighed, taking her place on her knees to stare flatly at Sander. He leaned back and took his time to enjoy the visual of the pretty redhead on her knees, looking up at him. 

'You look good down there,' He nodded. 'That'll probably be a repeated position.'

'Hmm...' Amy frowned. 

There was a period of expectant silence as Sander arched an eyebrow and waited. After thirty seconds, he grew impatient.

'Well? Unless you've led a more sheltered existence than I realized, you know what I want.' 

'You're not going to get it.' Amy snapped.

'You have some very odd ideas about where to draw the line, Amy. One last chance, dear.'

'No.'

'Oh, dear...' Sander sighed and hit another button. Amy screamed as her vision pounded red and her veins filled with heat. 'Level three... Amy, this isn't magic. It's not sorcellations,' Sander waved his hands dramatically. 'This is science. It's precise stuff. I could kill you with this thing. Best to be good.'

Amy wasn't exactly a fan of pain, and the Arclight system went way beyond uncomfortable, but, well... She did know what Sander wanted. It was actually incredibly obvious. But even through the pain, even with the threat of more of it in her immediate future, Amy couldn't bring herself to acquiesce so easily. It was one thing to be fucked while shackled to a table; that was out of her control. This... He was asking her to actively participate. The vast majority of her mental processes cried out against it.

Sander waited for Amy to recover from the shock, and when he caught her eyes, there were tears in them. He wondered just how far he would have to take the Arclight system before she gave in; just how strong willed could she be? Still, he supposed breaking her in was part of the fun...

He tried a different tack.

This time, two buttons were pressed: the level two pain reaction, and the level three pleasure reaction. There, he thought, that should liven things up a bit. 

He watched impassively as Amy began to convulse as both effects hit her simultaneously. The pain claimed her chest and ribcage for itself, seeming to her to be pushing hard against every bone inside her. The artificial orgasm seemed to race up and down her spine. Both sensations met between her legs, flowering out and twisting together into one terrifying gestalt of agony and ecstasy. She felt like she would burst, such was the intensity of the feeling. Her skin throbbed with it, every beat of her heart spreading and increasing the terrible storm of pure feeling. 

It was being caressed by a lover's tongue. Torn to shreds by sharp, animal's teeth. For every agonizing, impossible to resist second, it was the heart of the world.

And then it stopped.

And then Amy was bereft, set adrift in the sudden absence of the Arclight.

And then she remembered to breathe. 

She had been screaming from the moment Sander had activated the system to the moment he shut it off. Her teeth were still chattering. Her eyes were still crossed, and she was seeing stars. A series of muscles up and down her legs and stomach had cramped up from the non-stop tensing. She trembled. 

'Oh my god...' Amy whimpered in a tiny voice.

'That was ten seconds, but if you'd like, I could turn it back on.' Sander said. His fingers drifted to the buttons...

'No! No, please, Sander!' Amy begged. 'Don't do it to me again. I'll die if you do it again...'

He laid a hand on her shoulder, almost tenderly, 'You know what that'll take, Amy.'

Amy hesitated, but a gesture towards the wrist panel from Sander made her nod, emphatically, desperately. She scooted closer to Sander, her fingers reached slowly for the button of his fly. Sander had gone commando. After seeing Amy in the shower, she was lucky that he had even bothered wearing pants. Hell, she was lucky he hadn't simply taken her the minute he walked in.

Her long fingers delicately took a hold of his cock and lifted it. Her large eyes gave Sander one last doe-eyed look, pleading for clemency. He stared down expectantly. She gave a little sigh, and bowed her head, craning his cock to her lips. Seconds later, she was placing the first few tentative licks to the purple head.

'Mmm...' Sander sounded appreciatively as Amy began mouthing the tip of his dick, making it harden and grow. She bent her head lower and, pressing her tongue against the base, licked the underside of his cock from bottom to tip. 

Sander placed a hand on top of her head and guided her to take the tip of his dick into her mouth and pushed her down onto it. Under his insistent pressure, Amy took more and more of his hard flesh into her warm, silk-soft mouth, until his tip was resting at the back of her throat and her lips were pressed against the base of his penis, her chin against his balls, her nose nestled in his pubic hair. She gagged, and Sander allowed her to lift off of his dick.

'More like that,' he said eagerly as Amy coughed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes wearing an expression of helpless worry.

'I can't,' She whined. 'I've never done it that deep before.'

Sander laughed, 'What, dear old Rory smaller than me, huh?'

'... Yes...' Amy whispered grudgingly. She averted her eyes as her cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

'Well, that's all right. You can go slow, but you can take all of me. You will, in fact, unless you want me to hit you with a level three blast.' Sander said. 'Now, come on...'

His hand threaded through her luxuriously soft hair and pulled her firmly back onto his cock. Her lips slid slowly down over his swollen flesh, a feeling that Sander relished. The visual was also extremely pleasant, as Sander watched his dick disappear into Amy's full, wet lips.

'Look at me,' He commanded, and Amy obliged, flicking her liquid brown eyes up to meet his own. Her tongue flickered and twisted around the underside of him, tickling at some extremely sensitive areas. 'Why, anyone would think you've done it before, Miss Pond. You dirty thing, you!'

Amy whined her response around his flesh, the vibration feeling like heaven as his tip lodged deeply at the back of her throat. She sucked with a desperate energy, wishing to get the ordeal over with as quickly as possible. She had a lot of strength in that sexy little mouth of hers, her sucking making delicious little slurping noises as she rounded his bell end before diving down again. Her teeth lightly grazed Sander's sensitive skin, and he didn't know how much longer he could last. He felt that familiar "cannon is loaded" sensation.

'Swallow it all, Amy,' was all the warning Sander was willing to give as his cock jerked wildly. He pulled out so that his tip rested on Amy's bottom lip as the first shot of his sticky cum splashed across her tongue. The second shot coated the back of her throat as Sander plunged back into the comforting warmth of her mouth to ride out his orgasm, shooting load after load down her throat.

When he was done, he slowly pulled his cock from her still sucking mouth, relishing the sensation as it slid against her lips. He watched appreciatively as Amy swallowed the remnants of his load, noting the revulsion that flitted across her angelic features.




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 02



'Happy now?' She snapped, her tongue unconsciously darting out to catch a droplet of semen that had stuck to her lower lip. 

'Almost...' Sander said in a singsong voice. 'Clean me off, Miss Pond.'

Amy rolled her eyes, but since she still lived in fear of the Arclight, she had no choice but to comply. Her silken tongue swished around the head of his rapidly softening cock before she began mouthing the head to remove the remnants of his orgasm. He felt that it would be no time before he was ready to go again; the sight of her looking up at him, her lips tightly suckling his cock, her beautiful eyes silently asking, "is it clean enough yet?" was simply too much.

Besides, there were plenty of ways to play with the pretty Miss Pond while his cannon was being reloaded...

Amy had shot to her feet the second that Sander had released her; clearly being on her knees didn't suit her. She refused to look at him, and she quickly ended up in the center of the room with her back to him.

'Well, you got what you wanted,' She said. 'Could you leave me alone now?'

No, Sander thought, Not if I wanted to...

His hand slid to his wrist, hitting her with a level two pleasure blast. The effects were immediate: She swayed, her legs shook and she collapsed to her knees. Sander watched as she moaned, her thighs quivering and her pussy convulsing.

'S-stop it...' She quavered. Whatever the Arclight did, it wasn't like a regular orgasm. It had the same intensity as Amy's usual orgasm, but it contained within it a kind of insistent pressure that made it hard to think, or move. It was orgasm, without release. Just the sensation, just the lust, building and building without satisfaction. Even through her shame at such wanton thoughts, Amy craved more.

'Turn it off, Sander... Oh, fuck...' She moaned, her eyes half-closed. In response, he upped the dosage, past level three and into four. He was at something of a loose end as he watched Amy writhe in enforced ecstasy on the floor. He didn't know exactly how far to push this; the pain system had been thoroughly tested in its previous incarnation as prison security, but the other side of it, the pleasure effect, had been cobbled together off the cuff in a single night of work by himself and Mara, to see if they could do it. Mara had seemed entirely appreciative of the device when Sander had tested it on her, but they had never gotten around to testing out the higher levels. Mara had tapped out at level six, breathlessly begging him never to try out level seven on her. At level six she had almost gone mad in her need; Mara was as gay as Sander thought physically possible, but in that moment she had pleaded with him to fuck her, anything to claim the release she was craving. That was the problem with the system; it could get you off, but it was incapable of flicking the little switch deep inside that satisfied. 

"It leaves you incomplete," Mara had said. "Loving it so much it hurts, but being unable to let go and cum... It's nasty."

Amy's fingers clawed uselessly at the carpet, her face pressed against it as the Arclight tore through her. The waves of pleasure coursing through her seemed to accumulate in her hips as a leaden ball of heat that tormented her mercilessly. Her panties were flooded with her juices, and her unhooded clit rubbed against the slick material, sending new jagged edged bolts of sensation through her.

How much longer could she stand it? She needed... She needed... Something to relieve herself with.

By this point Sander was driven more by professional curiosity- and the interest of his other brain, the smaller one, from further down- as he pushed the Arclight up two more levels. He planned to push Amy a little further than this, but it would be interesting to see how she would react to level six as it was.

Amy gasped as though she had been hit, and her eyes shot open. The muscles in her thighs tensed, pushing her head further into the carpet and, consequently, her ass higher into the air. From this angle, Sander could appreciate just how shapely an ass it was; he had always been more of a breast man himself, but the tantalizingly soft curve of Amy's butt, draped in the billowy fabric of her skirt was hard to ignore. 

It was also interesting to see how the Arclight, at a sufficiently high level, was affecting Amy. In many ways, it was similar to Mara's earlier reaction; like Mara, Amy's hips undulated in a slow, unconscious fashion, as if having sex with some invisible lover. She was biting down hard on her lower lip in a surprisingly sexy fashion, and Sander could see in profile the muscles of her exposed belly tightening and relaxing, seemingly at random. Her toes curled, digging into the shag. 

'P-please... S-sander... ugh!' Amy begged, her voice ragged and shaking as her body filled with the never-ending orgasm. 

Just a little more...

The Arclight ramped up to eight.

Amy shrieked, her entire body going stiff as a board. She couldn't hang on any more, and her hands desperately hiked up her skirt, her right hand plunging into her panties to rub with incredible vigor at her hot cunt. As she fingered herself, her wild, dazed eyes met with Sander's, the silent, terrified plea hanging in the air between them.

Amy discovered after a few minutes of fevered masturbation that this method of stimulation was just as unfulfilling as the Arclight itself. She debated with herself, or rather the ever-shrinking rational part of her mind debated with her desperate body whether to simply launch herself at Sander and give him what he so clearly wanted, just so long as he turned off the evil machine and let her cum for real. It wasn't much of a debate.

'Sander! For god's s-sake... Just-' Amy picked herself up and stumbled on terribly unstable legs over to Sander. Her mind was so enflamed with lust that he was looking pretty good right now, and she descended on him with a crushing, passionate kiss that flung them both backwards onto the bed. Their lips never lost contact as Sander blindly hiked up her skirt and tore her slick and useless panties from her hips. He had been hard again for several minutes and he sat back up to support the feverish Amy by her waist as he slid into her sopping pussy. 

She cried out as the feeling inside her intensified, and then again as Sander bit down on the milky skin of her neck. He was amazed at the sheer heat and wetness of her this time around; the Arclight worked wonders. It was hard going at first; Amy's legs were still shaking too much to be of any use, so Sander was relying on his own strength to lift the gorgeous redhead up past the slight motions of her own hips before fucking back deeply inside of her. After a minute of this, Sander began to realize that it was a terribly inefficient way to go about fucking someone. 

He pulled out to shift position, causing Amy to whine in disappointment. He gripped her legs under the knees and lifted them up under his arms before lifting Amy bodily off the ground and leaning her back against the nearest wall. He was still supporting all of her weight, but he could now penetrate her with more ease and depth than the previous position allowed.

Amy was reaching near insensibility, her shrieks ear splitting. Every thrust of Sander's would cause her head to bump against the wall hard enough to make Sander wince. In the heat of the moment, he almost forgot...

'Amy...' He grunted, not stopping his furious pistoning for even a moment. 'Amy... you can... turn it off... whenever...'

Even in this state, Amy's hands were still deft enough to reach down and switch off the Arclight as fast as she possibly could. The terrible teasing sensations left her immediately, leaving only the real pleasure of Sander fucking her. This was real sexual pleasure. It was... complete.

'Oh, god!' She cried out breathlessly before Sander covered her mouth with his own. In the undeniable heat of the moment, she eagerly returned his kiss, their tongues squirming against each other. 

He let go of one of her legs, allowing it to drop to the floor and for Amy to support herself. His now free hand roamed up her slender, sweating waist to cup one of her clothed breasts, before roughly pulling her shirt and bra down. Her tits bounced into view, jiggling in time with their rough fucking. 

Sander bowed his head and took her left nipple into his mouth, teasing at it with his teeth and flicking the hard tip with is tongue. Amy tipped over the edge into an intense, fiery orgasm that spread through her in an instant. Cumming at last... the world shrank for Amy, down into a singular moment, down into the two of them...

Down into Sander, sliding himself deeply into her pussy, and unloading his own pent-up orgasm inside her.

The afterglow was broken only by their combined panting. Sander stumbled back, and both of them tumbled back onto the bed, Amy clumsily embracing Sander's broad shoulders. She laid her head on his chest, just for now. Just until her vision cleared and she could feel her toes again. Just until it stopped feeling like her own personal nirvana...

Just for now.

'Good lord!' She gasped. 'I could get used to that...'

Sander laughed quietly, 'What?' He raised a quizzical eyebrow.

Amy buried her face in the cloth of his shirt, hiding her eyes from him, 'Don't ruin the moment. Given the realities of the situation, I doubt there'll be many like it.' She stretched, languorously, her long legs rubbing together. After her previous tenseness, Amy had completely relaxed and she sighed in satisfaction.

'Why, Miss Pond, one might think that you actually enjoyed this!' Sander mocked.

'I suppose so, in a "sins of the flesh" kind of way.' Amy sighed. 'But it doesn't change anything, Sander.' She looked at him, and he could see the old petulance and anger returning to her eyes. 'You still kidnapped me. I'm still a hostage.'

She rolled off of him and rose unsteadily to her feet, almost absently removing her ruined top. In those few seconds, before covering her bare chest in her long coat, she looked for all the world like a goddess. 

'Okay,' She said with impish defiance. 'You're done with me now, right? Off you go. Leave me.'

Sander went to the door, 'I will be back, you know!' He called over his shoulder.

'I don't doubt that, you fucking scumbag!' Amy retorted, her voice beginning to refill itself with venom. But it did have a certain playful tone that had been lacking before. Maybe she was still riding an orgasm high.

The door whooshed closed, and Sander leaned against it for a moment.

'Well then... This just got interesting...'

*

To be continued...

Author's note: Well then... Chapter two. Did we all enjoy it? As before, comments or requests are greatly appreciated. Next time, Sander's assistants get a whack at Amy themselves. For me, part of the fun of writing for an online audience is the interaction between author and reader, so just go nuts. Till next time!



Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 03



The moment Sander had returned to his room, a panel on the wall activated, bathing him in a soft, electronic glow. Sander sat down, rubbing his eyes sleepily; Mara's face dominated the glowing screen, and she was looking way too irritated for the late hour.

'Sander, you said you'd share,' Mara said.

Sander turned himself to the panel and raised an eyebrow for the little camera mounted above it, 'You were watching us?'

'Yes.'

'While we were having sex? That's a little creepy, Mara.'

'Actually, I tapped out when she was giving you head, but you can't turn the speakers off, Sander. Also, you did say to keep Amy's cell under constant surveillance. It'd be more than useless if nobody is watching the camera feeds.'

'It's still creepy, Mara.'

Mara sighed, and brushed her fringe aside, 'I feel that you're missing my main point, boss man. You need to start sharing your toys with the other children, or they won't want to play with you anymore.'

Sander sat back and gave Mara his most charming smile, 'Look, what happened tonight wasn't something that I had planned on, okay? Amy just looked so good I... I couldn't help myself. I mean, you had to have seen her too, right?'

'Showering...' Mara's face grew dreamy and wistful. She drifted off into fantasy.

'Exactly!' Sander exclaimed, snapping Mara back to reality. 'Well, anyway, you can have your turn when I'm done sleeping. I intend to fit her with the device as soon as I'm awake, but after that, you and Shimizu can go nuts. Just find a way to decide who goes first.'

'Alright, Sander...' Mara said warily. 'Just remember, you need us as much as we need you.'

'How could I ever forget? Now, leave me alone. It's so damn late.'

Sander stood outside the cell door, contemplating whether to send another hologram through first. He doubted that Amy would try exactly the same tactic again, but who knew how desperate she was feeling? Humans do some weird things when their backs are pressed against the wall.

He absently tossed the shining silver circlet up into the air, watching it shimmer and spin, before making sure to catch it. It may have only taken a short time to fabricate, but the thing was extremely expensive. Probably quite entertaining, but expensive.

He opted against the hologram, mostly because Mara was poking him in the small of his back and hopping anxiously from foot to foot. She wanted in bad.

As the door slid open, Sander was surprised to find Amy sitting upright on the bed, staring at him expectantly. In a way, it was sort of disappointing. He had hoped for a LITTLE fight, even if it was futile. He liked the way her cheeks flushed when she saw him, probably at the memory of her actions last night, but that was the extent of her discomfort. She did tense up when Mara entered after him, so maybe she could guess at what was coming.

'Hello, Amy!' Sander said brightly.

Yeah, hi...' Amy said flatly. She was trying hard not to meet his gaze, while simultaneously not allowing him to leave her sight. It was interesting to see how her eyes seemed to settle on Mara, with a vague expression of trepidation.

'No need to sound so enthusiastic,' Sander deadpanned. 'I got you a present.' He extended a hand and proffered the thin ring of silver.

'What is it?' Amy narrowed her eyes as she took the gift, holding it gingerly as though it might explode.

'It's jewellery, Amy. You wear it around your neck.'

'Go on, put it on,' Mara said, laying on the friendliness just a little too thickly. 

'Why?' Amy asked warily.

'Oh, look,' Mara huffed, grinning so that her canine teeth were prominently displayed. 'We all know that the damn thing is bad news for you. We also know that I'm gonna hit you with the Arclight if you don't put it on, so hey.'

'Mara!' Sander exclaimed.

'What? You might wanna play around with her, but I don't. Look at her; she knows that you didn't give her that collar for her benefit.'

'So, um-' Amy began, then jumped as Mara threw a dramatically pointed finger at her.

'Put the collar on, slave!' She snapped. Sometimes, this level of directness could make Mara seem refreshingly charming. This was not one of those times. Sander had seen the look in Mara's eyes before, but only in creatures with extremely large teeth as they circled smaller, defenseless creatures.

'You'd better do it,' Sander sighed. ''I can't stop her now, she's like a boulder rolling downhill when she gets like this. Best not to aggravate her.'

'Okay...' Amy rolled her eyes, exasperation creeping into her voice. Sander noted this with slight concern; she had clearly decided that, although the situation was less that ideal, Sander and his crew weren't going to cause her any serious harm. On the one hand, less fear meant less potentially painful escape attempts. On the other, fear lent a certain drama to the affair that was important, since every moment of this was being streamed almost live to the Doctor, bounced around the universe and then forced through every video and audio device on the TARDIS. Sander made a note to try and up the ante, adding a few more strange and above all, fun scenarios.

The little silver collar slid around Amy's neck and closed with a click that bounced off the walls almost ominously. Also ominous was Mara's new smile as she gave a long, almost cartoonish evil laugh.

'Amy,' Mara began. 'Command: stand up.'

Amy stood, her movements mechanical, as Sander watched closely. 

'I didn't do that!' Amy squeaked

'Hmm, seems like the interface is slightly out of synch. Give me a second.' He moved behind Amy and began fiddling with the back of the collar. 'There. Try it again.'

Mara clapped her hands, 'Amy, Command: Sit down.' 

Amy flopped back down onto the bed. She made a little frightened noise at the back of her throat.

'Command collar,' Mara said. 'Gotta love it.'

'It's a lattice of nanotechnology, designed specifically to dampen your brainwaves and add some new signals upon the utterance of a command word.' Sander said. 'It's also really, really expensive, so, Command: do not attempt to break, remove or otherwise deactivate your collar, Amy.'

'It's a mind control collar?' Amy yelled. 'Really? Why are you going to so much trouble? Is it really worth it, just to get back at the Doctor? The guy who keeps saving the universe, time and again?'

'Yes,' Sander nodded. 'The Doctor saves the universe, saves countless people. But then there are those who lose out, who are the casualties of the Doctor's desperate need for altruism. And doesn't that just suck?'

Sander moved to the door, but turned on the threshold, looking over his shoulder into the room, 'Besides, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying this plan simply on its own merits. I'm going to leave you with Mara now. She'll take good care of you. You girls have fun now. And remember, Mara: the Doctor is watching!' Sander laughed, jogging out into the hall. Mara turned, and Amy suddenly seemed very small compared to the evilly grinning blonde. 

'Hi, Amy...' Mara crooned, taking a seat next to the captive girl at a distance she classified as "too close." She shortly began to feel Mara's fingers tracing up the soft curve of her hourglass waist. Amy shrank away from Mara's touch; it would be a lie for her to intimate that she had never thought about having it off with another girl, but that had always been a strictly intellectual exercise, not even a fantasy. It had simply been a question: how would it be different from what she had already experienced?

'Are you going to be a good girl for me, Amy?' Mara purred into Amy's ear, her tongue slipping out to brush her earlobe. Mara's arms now encircled Amy's waist, just under her breasts, holding her close enough that Mara's playful blue eyes dominated Amy's vision. 

By itself it was an unassuming thing, but the Command Collar lay against the skin of Amy's neck, feeling ominously heavy. Experimentally, she tried to lift her hands to touch the thin silver ring, finding that, although her fingers tensed and stretched upwards, she was unable to move her hands at all. When she attempted to move to push Mara away, she found herself perfectly mobile again. Mara's hands tightened almost painfully around Amy's waist in response to her resistance.

'That's not a good idea, sweet thing...' Mara murmured, nuzzling against Amy's shoulder before planting a single, soft nip with her teeth on the exposed skin. Amy whimpered, a sound that just spurred Mara to repeat the action. She had always been an extremely tactile lover.

Amy had repeated her attempt to find some decently modest clothing in the wardrobe, and had achieved a similar level of success. One thing was certain, Sander loved skirts, the shorter the better, and Amy knew why that was. This time, she had opted for a black miniskirt, not even bothering to attempt modesty this time. No matter what, she was going to look incredibly attractive for as long as Sander was picking her clothes, so why bother? She completed her outfit with a shirt that was tight enough to hug her plentiful curves, but was at least long enough to cover her stomach. That wasn't something that could be said for most of the clothes in her cell.

Mara's lips trailed along Amy's neck, teeth and tongue occasionally protruding to tease her pale flesh. Her mouth traveled up, across the line of Amy's jaw before planting a firm kiss to her lips. 

'Mmmph!' Amy whined as Mara's lips pressed against her own. She gasped for breath as the blonde woman pulled away, 'Wait, stop-'

'Command: shut up,' Mara whispered. Amy's mouth snapped shut and she found herself unable even to whimper. 'You're mine now, Amy. I get to play with you for a while, so relax.' Mara gave Amy a naughty smile, 'Hell, you might even enjoy it. Or not, I don't really care. And besides,' Mara turned herself, putting her face in line with Amy's ear. 'Rather than silencing you, I could put your voice to good use. Command...'

Mara's voice trailed off almost into imperceptibility. Amy's eyes grew wider as Mara talked, and she blushed. When she was done, Mara slithered off of Amy and stood, staring at her expectantly.

'I'm your whore,' Amy heard her voice drawl, her Scottish accented tones practically gilding the air in sexuality and lust. 'I will do anything that you demand of me. My body is yours. If you wish for me to lick your pussy, I will gladly offer you my tongue. I'll even beg for it...' Amy chocked off a sob as her submissive speech came to a close, tears sliding down her rapidly reddening cheeks. She lowered her head, auburn hair falling around her face in a curtain, tears pooling in her lap. 

'Ha ha ha... That's awesome,' Mara laughed, her grin again showing altogether too much sparkling white teeth. 'It's a good idea you had, too. But you don't have to beg. And haven't you ever heard of foreplay, Miss Pond?' Mara's eyes slid wickedly over Amy's body, and she wriggled back over to her new toy, hands once again gripping her, bringing her closer. 

She kissed Amy again, her tongue confidently licking at her lips, teeth and tongue. Her body melded against Amy as she probed deeper into the redhead's mouth, her weight pushing Amy onto her back. Amy's hands lay inert at her sides, the knowledge that any resistance would be met by the collar or worse, the Arclight system, keeping her compliant. 

Mara broke their kiss with a sharp intake of air, placing smaller, delicate kisses across Amy's cheeks, neck and collarbone. Amy felt a soft warmth on her inner thigh begin creeping up towards the hem of her skirt. Mara's hand slipped under the black fabric and her fingers tickled at the crotch of her panties, each tiny touch enflaming Amy's senses and making it harder to think straight. She found her hips moving, just slightly, to meet the teasing, delicate touches that Mara planted against her.

The sheer fabric offered no protection from Mara's questing fingers, and Amy soon felt the lightest of touches on her bare pussy. She yelped as Mara's index finger slipped inside her, and pushed herself away.

Mara eyed her new plaything, 'Command: strip naked.' She grinned evilly, draping herself over the bed and watching expectantly.

Amy felt herself stand, and was powerless to resist as she walked herself to the middle of the room, 'No! NO!' Her mind screamed as her hands went to the hem of her shirt and began pulling it over her head.

Mara admired her captive as more and more flesh was revealed to her hungry gaze. The look of helpless fear in Amy's eyes as her body acted against her was pleasant to behold, but there were plenty of other things that were just as pleasant. Mara was surprised at just how good she looked; earlier, when Amy had been strapped down, she hadn't really taken the time to look properly. Everything had been so fevered and impulsive. Now, Mara took her time to drink in every detail of Amy's body. She was pleased to see that Amy struck the perfect balance between softness and tightness. Mara liked a little padding on her girls, and Amy's curves carried just the right amount of sweet softness; just enough to make her flesh pliant and smooth, not so much as to obscure her wonderfully toned muscles as they tensed in fear.

She was also surprisingly... bouncy, everywhere it counted. Mara had Amy do a number of twirls on the spot, to get the full visual, and she found herself mesmerized by the pert, firm sway of her breasts and the fun little wiggle her butt made as she moved. The girl also had legs for miles, which was something Mara appreciated. She had always considered herself more of a thigh girl, especially in those moments where two of them were wrapped around her neck. 

Mara beckoned with a single crooked finger, and Amy swayed towards her, her shoulders slumped with defeat. She took Amy by the hand and gently guided her so that she lay bent over Mara's knee, her ass stuck high in the air.

Mara had joined up with Sander mainly because it had seemed like fun. Sure, she had lost her girlfriend in the Vesperian Rebellion, but then, she had lost countless lovers in more traumatic ways than that. She had loved Samantha, in an odd kind of way, but Mara was the kind of person who got over personal attachments quickly. But Sander's plan had allowed her to develop some cool new technology, and when she had seen the lustful look in his eyes upon first seeing Amy Pond on one of their regular hacking expeditions into the TARDIS, she knew that it would only get more fun.

Having said all that, Mara also recognized that Amy was here to be punished. She stroked down the curve of Amy's bottom, just for pervy fun, before she wound her hand back and spanked her, hard.

Amy jerked, crying out as the first blow cracked off of her taut ass cheek, leaving a red welt behind it. She tried to move away, but Mara froze her by pushing her long fingernails into the smooth bare skin at the small of her back. 

Mara thought that this game was a lot of fun, and she began a flurry of open-palmed smacks against the captive girl's finely sculpted buttocks. She alternated her strikes, each one further reddening the creamy white flesh. Amy began to sob as her torment progressed, tears falling to the floor before her.

Eventually, Mara allowed Amy to roll off of her lap, the redhead crumpling into a sobbing heap, her ass practically glowing. Mara slithered up her naked body to brush the hair away from her face.

'Now, now, there's no need for that...' Mara said, wiping a tear from Amy's cheek and kissing her deeply. 'I bet I can get your motor running in no time, hottie.'

With that, she twisted Amy's hips into a better position and slid down onto her knees at the foot of the bed. Her fingers wormed their way between her thighs and pulled.

'Open your legs, Amy...' Mara purred, forcing Amy's soft thighs apart inch by precious inch.

Amy winced when she felt the first tickle of hot breath between her legs. Mara gave a little laugh, and brushed her lips along the folds of Amy's vagina. Amy shivered at the intimate touch and pressed her thighs together to ward off the intrusion. Mara pushed back, keeping her legs spread wide.

'Don't make me use the collar, Amy,' Mara said, before sweeping her tongue along Amy's pussy, eliciting a long moan from the sex slave. It was all the invitation Mara needed, and she dove between Amy's legs with gusto.

Amy's whole body shook as Mara's first flick of the tongue hit her clit, sending bolts of heat shooting through her. Her mouth descended, tongue sliding into Amy's sweet honey pot, tasting her rapidly spreading juices. She could hear Amy's breath growing faster, more ragged as the scent of arousal filled Mara's nose.

Amy closed her eyes and sighed, turning her head away with a defeated expression. Her hands were limp at her sides, her whole posture radiating surrender and compliance. Mara felt good about that; at this point having Amy like this, a perfectly sweet and plaint sex toy, was just fine. Of course, she had some plans for Amy, and she was fairly sure that she could unleash the rampant slut that she had seen on the surveillance footage with a little... stimulation. 

Even now, she couldn't help herself, and her beautiful body squirmed helplessly as Mara snaked in and out of her cunt, lapping at the liquid that spilled out. Mara could hear the occasional sniffle or sob; it seemed that Amy didn't like the prospect of having sex with a woman, or that Mara was being so successful at it so far. But her body was responding so delightfully, what she was thinking about didn't really matter.

Besides, Amy came from such a primitive society as it was. Her head was probably swimming with recriminations; of whether she was a lesbian for even remotely responding to Mara's attentions, or worse, whether she was just a slut. Of course, none of that mattered to Mara. She had grown up in a world where sexual orientation meant very little, and discrimination was non-existent. The word for what she was, was metasexual; anyone could be attractive to her, irrespective of gender, race or species, so long as she found them interesting. And that was where Amy found herself within Mara's wheelhouse.

Mara's lips sucked at Amy's clit, drawing repeated shivers of pleasure from the helpless girl. She captured the tiny nub between her teeth, flicking her tongue over it with the occasional gentle bite, the latter action causing Amy to lift her hips off the bed and gasp loudly. 

Amy's thighs were quivering and tensing by Mara's ears, but she felt that she no longer needed to keep Amy's legs forced open. Her fingers joined the constant licking and sucking, long and graceful digits sliding easily into Amy's now incredibly juicy pussy. Her victim bucked at this new sensation, moaning a breathless plea for Mara to stop. Her voice cracked and trailed away as Mara began a slow fingering of Amy's cunt, curling her fingers and experimenting to find the most sensitive spots inside her. She found that there was an abundance of them.

Amy was incredibly sensitive and responded to even the lightest of touches. It was clear that oral sex was an extremely intimate act for her, and Mara wondered if even Rory had been down on her. If he hadn't, then Mara felt sorry for him; by now Amy's pussy was a warm tropical zone, and well worth visiting. The taste of it was quite intoxicating.

Mara had an extremely accurate sense of other women's bodies-probably a result of spending so much time thinking about them- and it had begun telling her that Amy was teetering on the edge of orgasm. Her eyes were still closed, but her expression carried a dreamy quality at odds with her previous tenseness. She trembled constantly, shaking in time with the long, sensual moans that accompanied each breath. Mara drew away from Amy, leaving her fingers still inside her increasingly hot depths, and reached up to stroke the taut surface of her stomach, drawing a shudder from the enraptured captive.




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 03



'Are you close, Amy?' Mara said in a singsong voice, fondling Amy's breasts absently. 'Will you cum for me?'

Amy's eyes opened slowly, revealing a dazed look, and she regarded Mara with addled brown eyes, as if she was trying to figure out the correct answer, 'Yes!' She panted, finally.

'Well, if you want to cum, you're going to have to do me first...' Mara gave that same predatory smile, and raised an eyebrow suggestively.

'Oh... No, please just... Uh!' Amy pleaded, her face twisting with desperation, her begging interrupted when Mara curled her fingers over a particularly sensitive place inside her, causing the walls of her vagina to spasm around her hand.

'That's the deal, Amy,' Mara said, withdrawing her wet fingers from the frustrated Amy and applied them to her Arclight wristband, hitting Amy with a level one pleasure blast. The girl would come around to Mara's way of thinking, given enough frustration. 

'Mara, please!' Amy whined raggedly, desperately. 'Please... finish the job... make me cum...'

'No, Amy, you're going to work for this one. You get me off, and... well...' Mara's tongue circled Amy's clit one last time

Frustrated tears fell from Amy's eyes as she searched Mara's for any sense that she would let this one go. Mara stared back as the naked girl tried to hide her growing, pent-up lust and all consuming desperate need to cum. Eventually, she closed her eyes and gave a despairing whimper, 'Fine, I'll... I'll do it.' She said in a tiny voice.

Mara gave her a thumbs up, 'Alright!' She crowed and, leaping to her feet, she began to disrobe. She had a dancer's figure, but only under the assumption that this particular dancer had spent an inordinate amount of time perfecting their craft, or just plain working out. Divested of her clothes Mara was all sweeping curves and feminine grace wrapped in the kind of pristine marble skin that caused artists to gain new inspiration and took the breath away from those less artistically talented. When she stood still, she looked statuesque. And not in a creepy, Weeping Angel kind of way, but in a "completely idealized thing of beauty," way.

Even with everything that had been going on, even with what she was expected to do, Amy couldn't help but feel self-conscious being naked around the similarly bare Mara. After all, the two of them were almost certainly being watched- she thought she heard the whirr of a camera lens zooming in- and Amy didn't like the idea of being compared to Mara.

'Ooh...' Mara crooned when she noticed Amy staring at her. 'You like what you see?'

'What? No!' Amy shook her head, partly as denial, partly to dislodge the building heat that was spreading through her as the Arclight continued its incessant work.

'Well, that doesn't really matter,' Mara sniffed, not really believing her anyway. 'Either way, you got a job to do.'

'Please don't make me do this, Mara!' Amy begged.

'Hey, it's totally fair play, Amy! You can't expect something for nothing, especially in your situation. You should feel lucky that you're not doing ALL of the giving, without receiving anything, slave,' Mara reminded her. 

'But why ME? I don't have any experience in... this kind of thing! Besides, I'm a little distracted!' Amy bit her lip and shook a little as she finished speaking, leaving no doubt as to what, exactly, was distracting her.

'If you want to STOP being distracted,' Mara said softly, drawing her fingers along Amy's sodden pussy, 'then you'll have to work for it. As I believe I've said before. Now, no more arguing. Get on your knees.'

Amy gave a little whine, but stood up anyway. Slowly, she sank to her knees as Mara skipped to the bed and, giggling girlishly, presented her bare, petalling cunt, 'Be gentle,' Mara mocked, causing Amy to lower her head momentarily, a bitter, drawn-out sigh escaping her lips.

Amy eyed Mara's vagina with distaste, but the steadily building pressure between her own legs and the slow dripping of her juices onto the carpet made her ensuing course of action painfully obvious. She lowered her head between Mara's legs, her tongue slipping from her mouth to tentatively, gently lick Mara's pussy.

She felt Mara's hand stroking her hair encouragingly as she sped up, determined to get this over with so she could cum herself. 

Amy's tongue licked up and down, making Mara grow hotter. She may have only been imitating what Mara had done earlier, but Amy had some natural talent at pussy licking. Her eyes might be brimming with a deep revulsion at the acts she was being forced to commit, but her cute little mouth was sending an entirely different message. Mara closed her eyes and tilted her head back.

This was the stuff that Mara loved; her sex life was long and colorful, and littered with moments like this. She had a history of being aggressively sexual, taking nominally straight girls and introducing them to the finer points of girl-on-girl love. Mara thought of it as education; she taught them what felt good, and all she asked in return was that they take a practical exam. A wet, heated, loud practical exam...

Mara wiggled her hips against Amy's face with a happy moan, wrapping her legs around the captive's neck and drawing her mouth in closer until her nose was pressed into Mara's light brush of pubic hair. Amy gave a plaintive little noise and looked up at Mara with big, sad eyes. 

'Oh! Right there!' Mara cried as Amy's tongue hit upon something that worked very well. She repeated the motion a few more times, hoping that Mara would just finish up and be done with it. 

As her tongue slid yet again into Mara's slit, Amy was surprised at the sheer heat the blonde was generating. Her juices spilled out onto Amy's face, sticky and wet, as both girls struggled to catch a breath, though for different reasons. Mara gasped and shuddered heavily as Amy's inexperienced mouth brought her closer and closer to the edge.

Then Amy's tongue flicked up in a new way, and every muscle in Mara's body tensed. Her fingers curled tightly into Amy's hair, her thighs tightening viselike around her neck, holding her mouth against her spasming cunt as she came, hard. Amy tried to pull away as Mara juiced copiously on her face. She found herself unable to as the stronger woman's well-muscled legs pulled together tightly in the grip of orgasm.

'Whoo!' Mara panted. She had had enough orgasms in her life to be able to recover from them pretty easily. She sat up, petting Amy's head with sardonic affection. 'You did well, Amy.'

Amy pulled away from Mara, breathing heavily. Her face was coated in a sticky sheen of pussy juice and her lips trembled nervously, but her eyes were wide and desperate.

'Alright, alright! Anything!' She gasped, 'Just, please...' Her eyes lowered, gazing despondently at her own nether-regions, disgusted at everything that was happening to her, 'Let me cum...' She whimpered.

'Ah, of course,' Mara smiled gently. 'How could I forget my own unfinished business?'

Both girls stood, Amy on unsteady, shaking legs, and traded places. Amy spread herself as wide as possible, her desperate need enflamed by Mara's cruel delaying. She wished that Mara would hurry and get her off, partially to relieve herself, and partly so that she would be left alone. Mara was only too happy to oblige.

She dove right back into Amy's pussy, her tongue probing deeply into the steaming heat and wetness. The added frustration of having to place Mara's need above her own had turned Amy's cunt from wet to positively volcanic, and Mara wondered just how much of that had to do with the Arclight. Her hand went to the switch, disabling the teasing device and easing Amy from artificial pleasure to a more natural kind of ecstasy.

Amy shivered in disgust. In truth, she hated the way Mara was making her feel, the way her skilled teasing made her enjoy being raped by another woman. She hated the blonde woman groaning between her legs, even as her mouth begged for more. Even as she tried in vain to suppress her own moans of pleasure.

Mara's mouth was insistent in its teasing, torturing motions, dragging ever louder moans from Amy, keeping up the terrible building pleasure. In many ways it was the same as the mean little teasing routine that Sander loved to play with her, only far worse: Sander's cock would tire of her, be unable to perform given enough time. Mara's mouth could be endless, relentless. The thought of Mara working her over even now was revolting to the resolutely straight Amy, and that didn't even take into account the other girl that Sander had in his employ. 

The two captors that had used her so far seemed to love teasing Amy until she pleaded for an end to it. Mara's mouth moved to Amy's engorged clit, her lips rubbing and teasing the sensitive nub until Amy screamed. She didn't stop, dragging out Amy's desperate shrieks until her voice was hoarse and her breath ran out. She wanted Amy to beg for release. Time lost all meaning to Amy as Mara continued her cruel work, and after what seemed like an eternity, her pride was broken. She was only too happy to beg.

'M-Mara!' She wept. 'Please, I need to c-come!' 

Mara raised her head, making Amy cry out in frustration and disappointment. Mara grinned, 'You may cum, slut,' She gave a low laugh, plunging her tongue back into Amy's streaming mound even as Amy sobbed at being called a slut. Then again, after today the name might be accurate. She sobbed once more, wondering how she could ever face the Doctor or Rory again, her eyes drifting to the camera on the wall. They were watching, she knew. They were watching as Mara's tongue speared into her and she tumbled over the edge into orgasm, the knowledge painful to her.

Amy's orgasm tore through her, erasing thought, erasing the humiliation of being made to cum by a woman, erasing everything but the pure, unadulterated feeling. She screamed, her throat releasing an endless series of babbling, hoarse cries as the orgasm made her skin feel as though it was on fire, and her nerves stream together into a mindless mass of writhing pleasure.

But Mara wasn't done. Her tongue continued licking, sucking and probing at Amy's cunt even as the walls of it clamped down on her tongue. Amy broke out into a series of multiple orgasms, chaining together without respite. Her body thrashed as waves of pleasure crashed against the edges of her mind, fraying her thoughts until all that was left was a drooling puddle of pleasure. She screamed out in hypersensitivity, her loud, strident voice echoing around the tiny room. Cumming repeatedly like this was becoming almost painful...

Then Mara's tongue was off her, and Amy's muscles were slowly allowed to unwind as she was released from her endless orgasms. She panted and gasped, drawing in desperate mouthfuls of air as her mind descended from the clouds and back into the cold steel walls of her cell. Every part of her shook as though in the grip of the most terrible cold, and humiliated tears streamed heavily down her burning red face.

Mara was suddenly beside her, their sweating naked flesh pressing together. The blonde took Amy's face in her hands and planted a deep, long kiss on her mouth, forcing her tongue against Amy's. She could taste her own orgasms on Mara's tongue, and it repulsed her. She pulled away, wiping a shaking hand across her mouth to remove the juices from her lips.

'You did well, pet. Did you like what I did to you?' Mara purred softly.

'No,' Amy sobbed. 'Why are you doing this to me?' She turned away from Mara, curling up on the bed as more sobs wracked her body. Mara stroked her hand languorously down Amy's side.

'Your mouth says one thing, but your body says quite another, my slutty little toy. And you know why we're doing this: It's so much fun.'

'I am NOT a slut,' Amy hissed through clenched teeth.

'Maybe not by traditional definitions. But you say we're raping you, then moan like a whore when we do.'

'That's because...' Amy stopped. Why WAS it? Sure, the Arclight could make her feel things she didn't want to, but she came for them, practically on cue. That wasn't the reaction of a woman being raped, surely. 'You make me do that...' She finished, but the excuse sounded weak even to her. Her cheeks burned with shame.

'Well, whatever,' Mara gave a contented sigh. 'I'm done with you, for now. I'll see you later, pet.'

Mara stood and, waving to Amy, went to the door. She gathered up her clothes and left the room, still naked, leaving the similarly bare Amy weeping in shame on the bed, her juices dripping down her thigh onto the floor.

Sander was waiting in the surveillance room alone when Mara walked in. He couldn't help himself; he ogled her naked form as she swept gracefully into the room. She might have been comfortable being naked in front of him, but there was no possible way she could have been more comfortable with it than he was. Sander had never considered a dress code for his workplace, but he was considering it now, just as she was. Of course, he wondered whether nudity could even be considered a dress code at all. Anti-dress code maybe...

'Wow!' He cheered, applauding his unbearably sexy assistant. He didn't need to say anything else, "wow" pretty much encapsulated it.

Mara's eyes surveyed the images of Amy on the screens. Even on a security camera, they could see Amy shaking quite noticeably. 'I bet YOU couldn't do that to her, Sander...' Mara grinned, taking her naked self across the room to the other door, the one to her room. She could feel Sander's gaze on her ass, and didn't mind it at all.

'I'm going to try like fuck the next chance I get!' Sander exclaimed. Mara laughed loudly as the door closed on her. She had sort of hoped she could inspire a little competition between them. It made things so much more interesting for everyone, especially Amy...

When Amy awoke, she found herself in a familiar location, suspended on the cross-like table she had been on when she had first come here. She was naked, her skin gleaming under a bright white light. The rest of the room was relatively dark, and with the spotlight shining in her eyes Amy could see very little of her surroundings. From what she could tell, she was suspended off the ground, although looking down revealed very little beyond the soles of her feet. She gave a lamenting little whine when she realized that, stripped though she was, she still had the Command Collar wrapped around her neck. 

There was the tapping of shoes on cold metal. The other woman, Shimizu, resolved from the dimness beyond. She was dressed in loose fitting white clothes, and an Arclight wristband showed prominently on her arm. 

Shimizu eyed Amy coldly, 'Sander and Mara have lost their focus, you know.' She said, her voice oddly stilted and quiet. She stalked closer to Amy, staring out at her from under a thick black fringe, 'They're content to use you as their little sex toy, then leave you alone until the mood strikes them again.'

'Believe me, I know,' Amy said, struggling against her restraints. The whole routine was beginning to dissolve her previous helplessness and make her angry again. She thought that she had gotten past it, but here she was, tied up again and ready to be fucked by another one of these freaks. It was bad enough when they were just sexually torturing her.

'Well, that's not exactly right, is it?' Shimizu said. Amy was finding that she had to strain in order to hear the almost imperceptible words of her new jailer. 'I mean, that isn't why you're here, is it?'

'What?'

'You're here for our revenge against the Doctor, Amy. Nothing personal, but I can't handle the idea of that man getting away with killing my Mira. We do terrible things for love, don't we? Unfortunately, Sander and Mara have forgotten that. They always were easily distractible. But I'm not.' Shimizu's hand went to her wristband, and started the Arclight burning into Amy's flesh with a combined pleasure/pain blast of five. 

Amy screamed as the machine tore through her, the two distinct sensations again settling in different areas: the pleasure between her legs, the pain in her chest. Both feelings spread and fought to meet in her belly. Her muscles grew taut against her shackles, her bare skin sliding against the cold metal. She felt as though she would split in two. Every nerve sang with the two disparate sensations, and the terrible result of the two combined. She could feel her pussy begin to dampen even as tears of pain fell from her clenched shut eyes.

But Shimizu had only started at level five because she had never used the Arclight system before. She ramped it up all the way to eleven, watching impassively, even coldly, as Amy began contorting against the table with renewed vigor.

If level five had been extremely unpleasant, level eleven was pure hell. Every cell in Amy's body convulsed with desperate, animal pleasure. Every cell in her body seemed to be tearing itself apart. The twin dragons of agony and ecstasy consumed every part of her, all burning fire and mind-shattering pleasure. Her vision blurred, dwindling away into points of light in the darkness. Her hearing faded out, the sounds of her own screaming retracting away from her. She began to lose the feeling in her hands and feet, a tide of numbness spreading up to her center. It was becoming hard even to keep enough air in her lungs to scream.

Amy felt herself losing consciousness. In the center of her vision, Shimizu's face was just barely visible, chilled dark eyes staring at her with an anticipatory glint. She was never going to turn off the Arclight, Amy realized. She wants to keep going. Amy could feel her mind slipping away, and she knew that when it did, that would be the end. She would die, here, alone, with her friends unable to lift a finger to save her. This time, the Doctor would not come to her rescue.

The door slammed open. Someone roared. Amy saw Sander, just before she saw the void.

Sander and Mara stormed the lab, feet echoing stridently off the steel floor. Mara rushed to Amy's side, just in time to see her faint. Sander grabbed Shimizu roughly by the arm, tore the Arclight band from her wrist hard enough to cut her arm and draw blood. 

His panicked fingers worked the console, shutting down the system entire and collapsing the wireless field that powered it. Amy's body, tensed by the system even in unconsciousness, went suddenly, horribly limp. Sander had seen dead bodies before, and Amy looked somehow worse.

He found another button, pressed it. The shackles restraining Amy went liquid and she fell out of them straight into Mara's arms. 

'Still alive?' Sander barked, voice rising into unfamiliar, shrill registers. He watched on tenterhooks as Mara checked for a pulse. She nodded, her face grave and serious for the first time in Sander's memory. He slumped, exhaling explosively. If he hadn't been watching the surveillance cameras, if this had been allowed to continue for a few seconds more...

This was NOT part of the plan.

Sander wheeled around, all fire and fury. Shimizu stood impassively, almost bored, in one corner, nursing her bleeding arm. She shrugged as Sander glared at her, causing him to rush forward with a furious growl.

'What the fuck do you think you're doing?' He snarled, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her roughly.

'Sander!' Mara called out. 'We need to move her, I think.'

'Take her to the med bay,' Sander said in a dull, heavy voice. 'Stabilize her, whatever she needs. I'll deal with things here.'

'This charade you're running is grotesque, Sander.' Shimizu said as Mara left the room, carrying Amy in her surprisingly strong arms. 'You've forgotten the real reason that she's here. The Doctor, Sander.'

'You could have killed her, Shimizu!'

Shimizu nodded, 'That is what I was aiming for, yes.'




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 03



The slap rang out across the room, the only sound for several seconds. Shimizu eyed Sander coldly, her head turned slightly from the force of the blow, her cheek stinging.

'You need to leave.' Sander said, turning on his heel. 'You need to leave, right now. Or I'll call the security drones.'

Shimizu's fingers curled into fists as Sander left her. He had made his choice. She had to leave. For now.

'What did you do with her?' Mara asked as Sander joined her.

'She's leaving the program, Mara. How's Amy?'

Mara nodded, 'Alive. Obviously she would be better for not being bitch slapped by the Arclight, but she'll be fine. Shimizu really wanted the Doctor mad, huh?'

Sander took a seat, looking over the prostrate Amy. She still slept like the dead, eyes sunken into her head, face pale and ashen. Sander's eyes searched her, looking concerned.

'Yeah, she did. She went over our heads, Mara. You should be angrier. Leaving aside the prospect of losing Amy, I for one would not want to be the guy who killed one of the Doctor's companions.' Sander sighed, burying his head in his hands. 'Thank god she's still alive...'

'Uh, yeah... That's the OTHER thing...' Mara shifted uncomfortably.

'What?' 

'The Doctor... When Shimizu started doing her thing... He sped up. He cracked thirty-three percent of the trail in the last ten minutes. I set up some roadblocks and more false traces, but... He's pissed off, Sander. He's coming here, and I don't know how long I can stall him from the lab here.'

'The way you qualified that makes it seem like you've got a plan?'

Mara snorted, 'Of course I've got a plan, boss. We just need to take a little trip, is all.'

To be continued...



Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 04



Amy's first thought upon waking was of just how tired she was of waking up naked in her cell. Her second thought was of just how tired she was in general. She felt as though her skin was paper thin, and that any strenuous movement would tear her open. 

When she tried to lift her head, she found that moving at all made her shake and tremble in a rather disconcerting way, and she laid back down quickly to stop the feeling. In the brief glimpse of the cell she had seen, Sander featured prominently. He was sitting down at the foot of the bed, back leaning heavily against the wall, head tilted up towards the ceiling. He didn't look great; his eyes were darkly ringed in a way that offset the otherwise sickly pallor of his skin. He turned wearily to look at her.

'Well, well... You're back among the living,' he said weakly. 'That's good.'

Amy's eyes narrowed as the hazy recollections of her last conscious experience drifted through her mind, as substantial as fog. Even so, certain things stood out; Shimizu turning the Arclight up to eleven. Sander stepping in to stop it. The actual tactile sensation of the Arclight when it was fully unleashed. None of it was entirely pleasant.

'You?' She said in a quiet, weak voice. 'You saved me?'

Sander nodded, 'Yes. I'm sorry. Shimizu's gone. I sort of banished her. I guess she was more unstable than we realized. She would have killed you, if we... if we had been delayed a second more.' Sander lowered his head into the palm of one hand. 'I'm sorry.'

'You're SORRY? Why? I thought you wanted me hurt?' 

'I never wanted you dead, Amy,' Sander sighed. 'That'd be just as bad as what... It'd be bad. I've dismantled the Arclight system and collapsed the signal field that targets you. I shouldn't have put you through that. I'm sorry.'

There was silence, as Sander closed his eyes and swayed in his seat, clearly at the mercy of some kind of internal conflict. Amy regarded him expectantly; it was clear that she had missed a huge chunk of information while she had been out, and she wasn't about to say anything to Sander right now to assuage any guilt he may have been feeling over what had happened to her. Suddenly, he raised his head again and stood up.

'You've been sleeping for two straight days. Well, for a forty-eight hour period, there's no day/night cycle here. You're likely to be very weak, but that's natural, given what you went through. You'll probably want to keep sleeping, but you need to resist that urge, for now. You need to eat something, and get some clothes on. We'll be leaving soon.'

'Leaving? Where?' Amy felt a familiar dread growing within her, the same dread she had felt every day of her captivity. Whatever Sander was planning would undoubtedly be unpleasant.

'We're going on vacation, Amy,' Sander clapped his hands together, attempting to muster some form of energy. 'The Doctor's coming here, he's pissed that Shimizu tried to kill you. We're running away. Just temporarily. Mara's gone on ahead, she's setting up some new relays to misdirect him. Anyway, if we're not here when he gets here we doubt he'll come back later. The plan should be back on course in a few days, a week on the outside, but until then we can have some fun while we flee.'

'Where are we going?' Amy quavered.

'Sorry, Amy. Can't tell you, but we need to leave in an hour. You know where everything is, but if you need any help, then please-' His dark eyes captured her own, and there was genuine concern there, '-call out. I'll help you.'

Sander left the room before Amy could say anything else. She sighed, and swept her legs off the bed. So, they were running away? That was interesting. Finally, a real hope of rescue.

Of course, before all that Amy still had to contend with her recalcitrant body. She had felt strange while keeping still, but when she tried to walk Amy realized exactly what Sander had meant by "very weak."

Her legs simply wouldn't support her. At least, not on their own. She found that if she leaned most of her weight against any available sturdy surface, she could drag herself along. Her muscles felt as thought they had liquefied, and she wondered what kind of damage Shimizu's torture had done to her, and whether it would be permanent. Either way, she knew she couldn't continue like this. Swallowing nervously, she called out for Sander.

The door slid open almost immediately. It seemed that he had been waiting outside. Someone was feeling guilty...

'What's up?'

'I need your help...' Amy mumbled. 'I can barely move on my own.'

'Of course,' Sander moved, putting an arm over her bare shoulder and guiding her gently back to a seated position. 'You should be back to normal by tomorrow at the latest. If you take care of yourself, that is. We'll have about a day in transit, so you can relax for a while.'

'Thank Christ...' Amy exhaled. Her greatest fear was that Shimizu had done something to her brain that couldn't be reversed. She didn't know how the Arclight system worked, but nothing in her experience with it so far had been incredibly pleasant. 

'Here,' Sander tossed a bundle of clothes onto the bed. 'These seemed a little easier to get into than... Uh, all the other stuff...' He gestured at the offending closet. It was odd; now, all the slick confidence and happy energy had flowed out of him, leaving an exhausted-looking awkward person in his place. Amy wondered exactly how bad he felt about the other day. He helped her to put on the loose-fitting clothes, but every time he touched her he sort of flinched, as though she might shatter like glass.

'So...' Amy began as Sander slid a large, billowy shirt over her head. 'You said you switched off the Arclight?' She couldn't help but sound hopeful. 

Sander shook his head, 'Not just switched off. I broke down the field. It's gone for good.'

'How can I trust you?' Amy pouted.

'You can't usually, but you can on this. There's no way for me to restart the Arclight. I'd need to reformat the system, take a completely new template of your brain, code an entirely new strike program and put the signal field back up. I should never have used it in the first place. You could have been killed.' He looked away. 

'Right...'

'Look, we'd better get going. We're wasting time, which is... confusing, since the guy chasing us has a time machine.'

'You. He's chasing you. He's rescuing me,' Amy said in a low voice. Sander frowned.

'Not if I have anything to say about it. Now, come on,' He took her hand and, supporting her bodily the whole way, the two of them left the cell. They passed through numerous identical hallways, under countless identical fluorescent lights. Sander had constructed his base from uniformly constructed pieces; it wasn't much to look at, but it didn't need to be. It kept in the air and all the machinery ran just fine, that was all that mattered. 

Ultimately, they reached a large, heavy steel door, studded with rivets. Sander leaned Amy against the wall and, with a grunt, twisted the handle and pushed in with his shoulder. The door opened with the sound of metal squealing against metal. Amy was moved into the airlock beyond, and the door was closed. 

Sander moved to the opposite door, 'Yeah, it's a pain in the ass,' he explained. 'But it's better than opening a door out into space.'

The other door opened out onto the interior of a shuttle, but not a very good one. That said, since Amy had lived all her life in a time devoid of space travel any kind of spacecraft was impressive. In Sander's mind, the shuttle was entirely utilitarian, just a way to get planetside if he ever needed to. For Amy, it was entirely futuristic because, well, it was the future. 

The shuttle was little more than a white box illuminated by strip lighting at floor level, with a bank of seats at either side. Two black leather pilot's chairs were bolted to the floor at the opposite end of the ship, each looking over an array of controls and a large screen that was currently blank. 

Sander guided Amy to a seat and strapped her in before striding across the floor to the pilot's seat.

'Be with you in a second,' He called over his shoulder, swiveling his chair to face the controls. He wriggled his fingers. Despite all that had happened to him, Sander was still a technician at heart. Space travel, robotics, any technology made his mind spin with possibilities. His hands descended, working to the beat of furious typing.

In this day and age, even cheap ships like this one had automated options for easy trips. Mara had been conscientious enough to program the shuttle with coordinates to follow her planetside. She was the communications expert; she knew where to go to best fool the Doctor with her startling array of wireless relays and gadgetry that Sander could only guess at. He had laughed when she had told him where she intended to go, and then grinned evilly when he realized what she was suggesting. Mara could be incredibly evil, but she had some fantastic ideas.

The city of Chroma, planetary capital of Theros. He had been there once before, almost three years ago to the day. He had been distracted with his plotting then, but he had to admit that the place was incredible. At night the entire city glowed with neon light. And right now Chroma was in the grips of its biggest celebration. They would have fun there.

The ship disengaged from the airlock with a series of mechanical noises, the slight force of acceleration pushing the occupants back in their seats. Sander yawned as the ship slid away into the darkness. There were no windows, which would be decorative but ultimately useless. Excepting the screen, there was no way to see out. It didn't matter; Sander didn't intend to spend his time staring out into utter blackness.

'Okay, we're off,' He said, sliding out of his chair and heading to the aft of the ship. 'Now, I simply must get some sleep. Mara's been gone and, what with you being unconscious and the base needing constant attention, I've been up continuously for two days.'

'That's... dedicated,' Amy sighed.

'Yeah, well... Don't get any cute ideas while I'm sleeping. You don't know how to pilot a spacecraft, so anything you do to the controls will probably kill us both. Besides, they're isomorphic, so it won't work for you. There's food in the strongbox,' He pointed at a large metal box that was bolted to the floor. 'Also, you need your rest too, so it wouldn't be a bad idea to sleep yourself.' He grinned, 'Don't worry; I won't do anything untoward if you do sleep. I don't need to.'

Sander dropped heavily into the seat opposite Amy, strapped himself in, and relaxed. It was amazing what two continuous days of sleeplessness will do to a person; Sander could feel pieces of his brain floating away. The ship could handle itself for the day of flight at near light speed. Besides, it would wake him if it needed him.

Eventually, the ship did wake him, with an insistent, low buzzing tone issuing from the command console. Sander yawned, his hand groping blindly for the seatbelt release catch. 

'Good lord...' He mumbled, pulling himself stiffly from his seat. Amy slept opposite him, looking oddly peaceful. Here she was, en route to an unknown alien world at the behest of a pair of kidnappers, and she was out cold. Maybe she had taken a bigger hit than he realized. 

He drifted over to the console and switched on the screen. Their destination dominated the image, a sea of sparkling lights blinking endlessly across the surface of the soot-black planet. Theros was a planet that was always awake; there was always someone there willing to pay for what the vendors were selling, as distasteful as it was.

Theros had started out as a separatist colony that had voluntarily left the control of the Terran government and set up shop in a then-unoccupied corner of the galaxy. Of course, being a new colony with no concrete, enforceable laws, it attracted a large criminal element willing to pay for asylum from whatever it was that they were running from. 

In the face of this, the new Theros government had two options; on one hand, they could accept a reputation as a criminal haven, with all the implications that had. Evidently, this option had not interested them.

Instead, they had opted to transform Theros into a non-stop commercial and entertainment hub where anything-and more importantly, anyone- was for sale. The criminal element still flocked to the place, particularly Chroma, but now they came to permanently set up shop, driving an intense tourist trade. There were plenty of people willing to pay large sums of cash for things they couldn't get on law-abiding Terran worlds. 

And Theros was there, with a smile and an outstretched hand. Sander could appreciate that kind of barefaced business dealings. Compared to business on Terran worlds, this method seemed almost... honest. 

Sander set the shuttle into landing mode, gained the correct clearance to land in one of the commercial spaceports, and stepped back out into the hold. His foot kicked out, clanging loudly against the hull. Amy jerked awake, eyes shooting open in a daze.

'Wake up,' Sander said. 'We're coming in to land. You need to get ready.' His hand went to her seatbelt, unclasping it quickly and lifting Amy to her feet. She was able to stand under her own power now, which was a relief to both of them. Having to spend the entire trip clinging to Sander did not strike either of them as particularly fun. 

'What do you mean, "get ready?" Amy asked sleepily, rubbing at her eyes.

Sander grinned, 'We're going to attend a party, Amy. A huge one. You can't go out looking like that!' He gestured to her loose, colorless clothes. 

'A party, huh?' She replied flatly. 

Sander nodded emphatically. What he called a party was actually a Chroma institution, a citywide festival to celebrate the founding on the city. Of course, since Chroma was essentially a huge, city-sized, neon-tinted brothel, this festival was somewhat more debauched than others. 

Sander gestured to a large duffel bag that he had stowed to one side of the hold, 'There's some stuff for you in there. Put it on.'

'What if-'

'Amy, you're still wearing the collar. No arguments, or I will use it, y'know?'

'Alright...' Amy sighed. She was becoming very familiar with this particular defeated sigh. 

Fishing around in the bag revealed that Sander was done with comfortable, loose-fitting clothes. In fact, he may have been done with clothes altogether; if Amy had to ascribe a name to the contents of the bag, that name would be "underwear," and even that was dubious. 

She wheeled around, 'Oh, now come on!' She snapped. 'You can't expect me to go out in public dressed in these!'

'You bet I can!' Sander stared back blankly. 'Just watch. Command: Put that shit on, Amy.'

Amy whined as her body complied with the order. That damned collar!

Sander had picked this outfit- if one could call it that- especially for this occasion. There would be a lot of people on the streets of Chroma, and a lot of them would be traveling with sex slaves. Sander intended to stand out. Well... He intended for Amy to stand out.

She stripped off her loose-fitting clothes, barely even conscious of her audience any more. Sander had to resist his impulse to simply bend her over and fuck her right there, but he knew that it would be worth it in the end. Patience would yield some incredible rewards, here in Chroma. It wouldn't take long for the shuttle to descend through the actually rather thin atmosphere to the surface of the planet itself, but in the midst of the descent itself he could barely feel it. Stabilizer systems: gotta love 'em. 

There was a reason Mara had chosen Chroma. Sexual slavery was entirely legal there, operating as a form of business transaction. One just had to remember that Theros had no traditional legal system. If you were careful, and made sure that someone on the outside knew that you were there and could come look for you if you disappeared, the planet was the holiday destination of choice for a certain class of decadent person. Chroma also had facilities there that were far more... specialized, than Sander's asteroid base. He grinned, almost salivating at the prospect. 

Amy turned, sheer fabric fluttering around her, and stared defiantly at Sander, hands on her hips. She looked even better than Sander had imagined; clad in a gauzy, light blue nightie, pale skin glowing beneath the transparent material. The slightly darker blue of her bra accentuated her breasts, and her panties practically flowed across the smooth curve of her hips. It was only becoming harder to resist the urge to bend her over the seats.

'That... isn't everything, Amy,' Sander said haltingly, shaking his head to remove the prurient thoughts that were settling in.

'I know!' Amy exclaimed hotly. 'But I'm wondering what kind of party requires that I dress myself like this, and wear that other stuff!'

Sander tilted his head to one side, not really understanding the question, 'Uh, an awesome one?' He answered. 'Seriously, though. Finish it up.'

Amy gave a wordless, frustrated growl as her eyes misted up. This was too much! 

Her hand delved back into the bag, producing the objects that had so repulsed her. One, a large, red leather collar, she clipped around her neck. A leash dangled from it, down between her breasts. 

'I get the leash,' Amy hissed through clenched teeth. 'Kinky, Sander. Really. But I wouldn't even know how to begin using this thing.' It flashed white in her hand. 'What kind of party is this?'

Sander laughed, standing up to help her, 'Think of it as Mardi Gras Plus, okay? Only kind of sleazy and weird. But also fun!' He grinned.

Sander took the mask from Amy, his free hand gathering up her long tresses of ginger hair and winding them closer to the back of her head. The straps descended as he raised the white mask to her face, catching up her hair and pinning it in place.

The faceplate of the mask was... interesting. The interior featured a dark mesh that covered the eyeholes, making it hard to discern anything particular about the environment. Worse still, the mouth featured a sculpted cock gag that seemed to grow out of the mask in a single, uninterrupted piece. Amy opened her mouth obediently as the artificial member pressed against her lips; she realized that non-compliance was pointless. Even so, she gave a startled "mmph!" as the gag slid over her tongue, pressing it against the floor of her mouth. It filled her jaw, just barely missing the back of her throat and hence her gag reflex; the stretched position was vaguely uncomfortable, probably exactly as Sander had intended.

Finally, he stepped behind her, gripping her wrists firmly and pulling them up into the small of her back, where he locked them together in a pair of steel cuffs. A chain dangled from these new restraints, which Sander attached to the back of Amy's collar, keeping her arms pinioned in such a way as to make her muscles stretch and ache.

He stepped back to admire his handiwork. Dressed like this, Amy looked sexy, without having any kind of identifying features. The mask bundled her distinctive curls up quite convincingly, and covered her face enough to render her completely unrecognizable. 

Sander nodded, satisfied. It would serve its purpose; he knew that the Doctor would find his lab, it was an inevitability. Without anyone there to maintain it, the asteroid would lose power and air, making it an interesting endeavor for anyone to get back inside if Sander didn't want them to. But he was the Doctor; he would get inside. And when he did, he would know where Sander had run to. There wasn't any point in deleting the computer's data; he could recover it. 

The Doctor would know that he was taking Amy to Chroma, and he would follow. The only way to be sure that they wouldn't be discovered was complete anonymity. At least, until they had gotten off the streets and into the privacy of the club Mara had gotten them into. They could take their time then, until the Doctor found Mara's false relay and left on another wild goose chase.




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 04



Suddenly, the ship emitted the landing tone, and the slight, pervasive shudder that had been with them for the last few minutes halted. Sander grinned, and placed his own black mask over his eyes. It really was like Mardi Gras Plus down there.

The bay doors opened with a metallic whirr, and Sander skipped over to them, barely able to keep his excitement in check. He leaped out into the noise of the city, his skin instantly bathed in a galaxy of neon lights. Amy turned towards the sudden light and noise, her borderline blindness making her nervous. Her whole posture radiated the discomfort and fear that she could no longer vocalize or convey through expression.

'Welcome to Chroma!' Sander exclaimed, throwing his hands wide. He couldn't help but feel the enthusiasm of the moment; right off of the ship, Chroma was filled with thumping music, pulsing lights, and the constant chaos of the crowd. An endless procession of... interesting looking people filled the spaceport; at this time of year Chroma was full of people coming and going. It was a perfect cover, Mara had done well. 

Sander stepped back inside to take hold of Amy's leash; the mask made Amy functionally blind, and this was good for ensuring that she wasn't identified, but it did make transporting her something of a pain in the ass. The leash had been an elegant solution that also furthered the disguise. It wasn't Sander's usual fetish, but he had to admit... it was kind of hot.

Sander guided Amy out into the street, his tugging on the leash making Amy flush with humiliation. As she walked, particularly strong lights would occasionally penetrate the veil of her blindfold, momentarily illuminating a series of silhouettes beyond. She took tiny, cautious steps, conscious of the crowd milling around her, and this made Sander tug harder on her leash. 

Of all the disgraces that Sander and his crew had put her through over the last few days, this was the worst. She felt exposed, on display. The skimpy outfit she was forced to wear was bad enough, but the restraints and her blindness and speechlessness brought her to a new low. Even as disconnected from the world as she was, Amy could feel the eyes of the crowd roaming her body. In her mind's eye, she was the center of attention. Her muscles throbbing, her jaw stretched uncomfortably, she felt like crying out, to let someone, anyone, know that she had been kidnapped. To her eternal frustration, she was unable to do anything except follow Sander like some kind of pet.

'There are a few things you should know, slave,' Sander said magnanimously, playing the Master with aplomb. 'Here, slavery is legal. Even if you do get the opportunity to tell someone about us, nobody will care. Also, this is a kind of dangerous place. Dressed as you are, you do not want to get separated from me.' Sander looked around, eyes filled with a vague sense of unease at his surroundings, 'If you could see the things I'm seeing, you'd realize that I'm all kinds of nice, compared to some of the people out in public here.'

Sander scratched the back of his head. There were plenty of master-and-slave pairs in this crowd, and depending on where one looked one's eyes would be assaulted with all manner of depravities. Everywhere he looked, Sander could see the kinds of scars and bruises that made him wince sympathetically. He looked back at Amy's pristine, perfect skin. He couldn't see any reason to damage this image of perfection. Given from the kinds of looks she was receiving from others, he wasn't alone in this mindset.

'Hey, sweetheart!' A heavyset man drawled, clearly drunk off his ass. He draped himself roughly over Amy's shoulder, his hands tracing up the bare skin of her ass. 'Maybe we could have a little fun!' 

Amy squeaked in fear and tried to shrink away. Sander could recognize that, although the man was talking to Amy, his request was addressed directly to himself, as the master. Sander's eyes grew cold and protective; this interloper had a slave with him, clearly the worse for wear for his attentions. She shook constantly, her skin a patchwork of bruises and harsh red welts. Sander shoved the man roughly away.

'Look but don't touch, asshole!' Sander snarled. 'This one's mine, you got me? Go play with your own.'

'Alright, alright...' The man shook his head, dissolving back into the crowd.

'You see what I mean? Don't wander off, kid.' Sander sighed. That had been a little uncomfortable. As visually interesting as the streets were, it was probably best to get inside before any real trouble happened. Besides, the Doctor was coming, and he had a time machine. He might already be here.

Mara had left him a map, and he had done his best to memorize it. He led Amy through streets that left him shaking his head in disbelief; the kinds of things that people were doing in shop windows here was truly amazing. Occasionally he would stop, his eyes wide with wonder and his mind growing progressively more open, until Amy groaned through her gag. She was growing more and more uncomfortable on the streets; people felt compelled to shout out lewd comments to her, despite the fact that she was hardly dressed any worse than the majority of slaves out in public. Compared to most, her clothes were graceful, positively artful. It must have been the way she carried her fear and shame in her posture; the crowd could pick up on that and were determined to have their fun at her expense. Sander felt sort of bad for her, but then again, that was how Chroma worked. The last time he had been there, these people had picked him out as a newcomer and made him suffer for it too. Apparently, all one needed was a high-quality slave for that image to be dispelled in people's minds.

The pair rounded a corner, and Sander threw his free hand up in front of his eyes protectively as a dazzling white spotlight swept over him. At the end of the street, the front façade of the club blazed with multi-colored radiance, a huge glowing sign featuring prominently: Shangri-La. 

Sander grinned with anticipation. Of the clubs in this city, Shangri-La was legendary. Anything and everything that the clientele could possibly desire was catered for at Shangri-La, and quite probably many things that most well adjusted people could never imagine besides. It was incredibly exclusive, but Sander was rich, and bribery came as second nature to him. He and Mara had been able to acquire a large private room and unlimited use of the facilities at short notice, with only minimal drain of his private accounts. Amy really had no idea what she was walking into.

'Ah, here we are,' Sander said, nodding appreciatively at Shangri-La's spectacular display. He tugged Amy forward, but the increasingly bright lights and her natural disinclination to go where Sander wanted had combined into an incredible recalcitrance. She quavered, whining around the plastic prick in her mouth and pulling against the collar around her neck. Over the past few days she had been raped multiple times, tortured and generally abused. This was something different. Now she was being dragged through the streets of some alien world, practically naked and tied up. Amy sensed that whatever had been done to her in the past was only playtime compared to what she would experience if she kept going toward the bright light ahead of her. She struggled.

Around them, interested masters would stop and cluck their tongues at the disobedient slave. Some offered recriminations of Sander for failing to train her properly, making Amy flush with shame. Others scolded Amy herself for being rebellious. Others still gave Sander suggestions about how to punish Amy's insubordination. Some even tried to lend him tools to punish her with. Sander laughed, liking the way that Amy stiffened in panic and shrank away from him when she heard the tenor of the crowd's reaction turning against her. Sander could see the keen looks in the eyes of many of the gathered masters; they wanted to see this hot new slave being punished.

Sander shook his head, ' No need for that... I'm sure she'll cooperate now. I mean, I've got a Command Collar on her, but I do so hating using it. You've learned your lesson, right, slave?' Amy felt a finger prod her in the chest. She whimpered and nodded emphatically, bowing her head in what she hoped was a proper sign of submission. Tears pooled in the mesh eyeholes of her mask, filtering through and falling to the immaculately maintained concrete. After a moment of sheer debasement, she felt Sander's familiar touch stroke her hair.

'There, there,' He said, all faux- tenderness. 'We'll consider this a warning then, shall we? Any more disobedience will be punished, slave. Now come on,' He tugged on her leash, and she stumbled forward. The crowd parted to let them through, with reactions varying from approval to disappointment.

'Do you see?' Sander hissed at Amy between clenched teeth as they drew away. 'You are not among friends here. These people want to see you hurt. It really is best if you stick with me; at least this way you'll leave this planet eventually. You are hot as hell, if you get caught up here you'll be used every way you can think of and then dumped when you're all used up. They like new meat here, and the collar and the Arclight and all that stuff back at the base? That isn't even the worst technology that they have here.' He gave a little, uneasy laugh. Chroma might be a hell of a lot of fun, but it was also terrifying. 

Large, tinted glass doors slid open soundlessly and closed again. Inside, the writhing, living chaos of the city fell away, leaving an austere, chilled silence in its wake. They were in a well-lit foyer, cast in obsidian metal and smooth, curving contours. There was a constant, low hum as numerous air filters pumped out cold, sweet smelling air. Sander had not realized just how hot the press of bodies outside had been, but looking back he could see Amy's lingerie clinging to her body with sweat. 

'Hello, sir,' Called a voice from behind the bold black desk in the center of the room. A beautiful brunette sat primly behind the reception desk, smiling warmly. This smile did not extend to her eyes, which, although sparkling and clear, carried a certain constricted, dead quality that put Sander off. She was stunning, in a manufactured, robotic kind of way; as though her appearance had been constructed mechanically. As Sander drew closer, he realized why; there was a collar around her neck, with a metal white rose turning slowly from a clip at her throat. Chroma's slave culture had a sort of unofficial code; white rose said that the individual in question was indeed a slave, but that they were not to be touched or interfered with. They were the property of a master who, while not using their slave right now, did not want anyone else using it either. Black rose said that interference was allowed, but only via negotiation with the master. Red roses, well... Red rose designated a walking free-for-all. Open all entries, all the time. 

There were three plastic trays at the end of the desk, each filled with a different color rose pendant. Sander tilted his head to one side and thought, hard. It took him a minute, but eventually he settled on no choice at all, and picked three pendants, one of each color. His eyes roamed up the body of his blind captive with a speculative air. He winked at the slave-receptionist. She gave a giggle in response that was just a little too energetic. 

'We have a reservation, name of Hackett.'

The slave lowered her eyes to an embedded screen in front of her, fingers tapping away at a keyboard. She raised her head, 'Yes, you do, sir. But, if it pleases, this one sees that your reservation is for three, sir?'

Sander made a little noise in the back of his throat. "This one," huh? Her master, possibly the shadowy proprietor of Shangri-La, did not wish for her to speak of herself in the first person. He wondered what it might be like inside her head, when she wasn't even allowed to think of herself as a distinct individual. She was, literally, just an object here.

'Our third will be along shortly, I think,' Sander said. 'She's the one who made the reservation. Calls herself Mara.'

'Ah, yes, sir,' The slave was somehow managing to sound timid and confident, at the same time. Sander had no doubt as to which was the actual emotion she was feeling. She pressed a button below the desk, and slid a keycard across to Sander. She had a scar across the back of one hand, and Sander wondered how it had got there. Then he realized that he probably didn't want to know.

There was something unwholesome about Chroma in general and Shangri-La in particular. One felt that they were covered in a thin patina of grime mere seconds after entering the building. 

'You are in suite 600-09, a platinum-level suite, if it pleases, sir. Please proceed through the double doors; there are elevators to the left, and the public entertainments are on the right. The Shangri-La Help service is tuned to wireless frequency 8.46, but if you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask, sir.' The slave drilled out this spiel, as though it had been implanted directly into her brain. 

'I do have one question: What's your name?' He knew he shouldn't be asking it, but Sander felt a kind of horrified fascination with the young woman. He wanted to fuck her, but felt incredibly bad even for that basic level of attraction. He felt like this woman would dissolve into sand at any moment. 

'This one is called Pearl, sir.'

Sander shook his head, 'Of course you are. Elevators are this way, you said?'

'Yes, sir.' 

Sander stopped talking. There was very little point in it. He led Amy through a pair of doors so seamless that when they were closed they were invisible. The elevator doors were much the same, and the elevator beyond them played soft piano music as they entered, the first sound to intrude on the club since they had entered. Sander recognized the piece; Chopin's "Raindrops," and he clucked his tongue appreciatively. Somebody in this club had excellent taste in music. 

With the cool air blowing and the pleasant music taking the place of powerful club beats, Amy was beginning to relax, if only a little. Her shoulders had dropped back down, and her breathing was returning to a normal rhythm. In the cooling air, her nipples were beginning to rise on her lusciously pert breasts, showing through her damp bra. Sander stared openly; she was blind, she didn't know what he was doing. There was no harm in it.

Shangri-La was actually a giant tower, one of the atmosphere-scraping super-towers that functioned as one huge testament to the decadent excesses of Theros. There were hundreds of floors, each one bristling with rooms both private and public for the use of the thousands of customers that were deemed worthy of the earthly delights that Shangri-La offered. A plasma screen attached to one wall of the elevator pointed out the locations of numerous specialty services that the club offered. Sander stood transfixed; some things he felt he simply had to try, or to make Amy try. Others were far more lasting, and he wondered whether he was willing to permanently alter Amy in some of the ways the screen was suggesting. Sander had learned of Shangri-La by reputation, but he had never realized just how sprawling the club actually was; it offered everything a master could ever want for his slave, from simple piercings and tattoos all the way up to gene therapy and direct mental downloads. 

Sander found himself fascinated by the idea that sexual technique could be improved vie psychological implantation. He could actually change who Amy was...

Fortunately, the elevator reached its destination shortly after Sander set down that particular train of thought. He shook his head to dislodge it; altering Amy's personality wasn't part of the plan. It defeated the purpose of keeping her captive in the first place. 

It was only a short walk to their room. The door opened when Sander pressed his new keycard against it, and his eyes widened. The room truly earned the designation "platinum." 

'Wow,' He breathed, stepping into his new digs. For the most part, the suite looked like a high-priced hotel room; large double bed, well appointed bathroom and kitchen, and the small living area featured a television screen that was positively breathtaking in scale. But there were several additions and alterations to hint at what the suites actual purpose was.

The walls and roof had a variety of depressions, handholds and clips spaced out at odd intervals. The headboard and foot of the bed featured sturdy iron rings, and even the kitchen counter had some rings through which ropes or chains could be passed. That struck Sander as somewhat unhygienic. 

The whole room had been purpose built to restrain people, as well as allow them to live in comfort. A large black wardrobe sat in one corner, distinct from the others in the room. Sander knew, just knew, without having to open it, that it was full of an incredible array of instruments of pleasure and punishment. That was just the kind of place that Shangri-La was. 

The Shangri-La service staff had already carried Sander's bags from his shuttle up to the room. They were that good. Sander ignored them, instead walking over to Amy and reaching around the back of her head to undo her mask. Now that they were safely inside the club, there was no way that the Doctor could find them; and with no publicly accessible cameras it didn't matter if Amy was caught on tape. In fact, it might be fun to get her on tape...

Amy's fiery hair cascaded down from its tight bun as the mask came free of her face. Her eyes blinked, adjusting to the light, as the rubber cock came free of her mouth with a satisfying slurping noise. She coughed, taking in deep breaths.

'Command: Strip,' Sander exhaled, dropping heavily onto the bed. Outside, clothes were a matter of decorum. Inside the club, none of that mattered. 

'Oh, come on, Sander...' Amy complained even as her hands worked to obey the command. Sander shook his head in response.

'I'm not going to fuck you,' He said. 'Mara and I have a gentlemen's agreement on that point. I don't get to start the real fun until she gets back. That said, we still have around an hour to kill until she finishes up. So we're going downstairs to kill some time.'

'Like this?!' Amy squealed as she peeled off the last of her outfit, leaving her gloriously nude.

'Yup,' Sander gave his best winning smile. 'Enjoy the freedom, Miss Pond. There's nothing like it where you're from.' He guffawed, 'Of course... If you walked around Leadworth like this, some people might appreciate it. I know I do.'

'I hate you,' Amy snapped. Sander just laughed.

'Well, sure! But I'm in the position of power here, my dear. It isn't a good idea to antagonize me, my little sex slave. Come, we go!' He stood, skipping to the door with a gesture over his shoulder. Amy followed unwillingly, going weak at the knees at the thought of walking around in public like this. 

'Oh, wait. Before I forget...' Sander clipped the small black rose to Amy's leather collar, the only piece of clothing Sander had allowed. He grabbed her leash, just to complete the image. Free of any kind of covering, Amy's small, pert breasts jiggled as she walked, a sight that Sander had to physically wrench himself away from. She shivered a little in the cold, her arms covering her chest and crotch. Sander moved to stop her, but the sight of her trying to preserve her modesty, a look of abject defeat on her face, was simply too much. He shrugged.

In the elevator, Sander studied the electronic brochure, looking for something to do. It didn't take him long; ground floor... a simple idea, but certainly entertaining, and in keeping with his idea of recording Amy's little misadventures. Yes, that would do nicely...




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 04



Once back on the ground floor, Sander led his stripped slave out into the public arena. If the corridors around the private suites were empty, the public areas were where all those people had gone to. The floor squirmed with activity; a variety of adult-oriented entertainment at one's fingertips. The dance floor was in full swing, but that wasn't where the action was at; slaves were everywhere, in any number of positions, doing any number of lewd things. Some were chained to the walls, enduring whatever tortures their masters could devise. Others still were... well, it was a visually complicated scene. 

Even with all that was going on, a large number of eyes slid to regard Amy appraisingly as she entered the room. It was rare that a newcomer was allowed into Shangri-La, and any fresh meat was cause to stare. And this new slave was obviously new at the entire slavery game.

Amy shrank away from the room, eyes wide with horror at the acts she was witnessing. Faced with lustful gazes of most of the room, Amy's hands felt like they didn't cover nearly enough. Sander whispered a command.

Her hands lowered to her sides, prompting a storm of hoots and cheers from the crowd. Suddenly exposed, Amy's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red. Tears welled in her stinging eyes, and she sobbed thickly. Nothing in her life previously could have prepared her for being exposed like this in front of so many strangers, thousands of light-years- and the regular kind- from home. Her evident humiliation only made the crowd more enthusiastic. Sander began to get offers shouted from the mass for some "private time," with Amy. She whimpered, and stared at Sander in horror.

'Sorry, gentlemen. She's not for sale just yet. Maybe later, we'll see how my fancy strikes. But enjoy the visuals, by all means.' He winked at the crowd, prompting scattered applause. Nevertheless, he took her in a wide arc, away from the crowd, to avoid their pawing, eager hands. 

At the far end of the room was a sort of alleyway, one wall playing host to numerous black doors. Sander selected a door at random. Inside was a small booth, large enough for a single person. There was a hole in one wall, beyond which could be heard the sounds of the city. 

'Oh, you have got to be kidding me!' Amy shouted.

'I take it you know how this works, then? Well, to ensure cooperation... Command: suck the cocks that come through the hole. And... try to have fun,' Sander smiled, closing the door on her. There was a tiny click as it locked. Amy found herself sinking to her knees, face level with the hole. She wished Sander hadn't added that last part; she was salivating at the thought of what she was to do, regardless of how repulsive the thought actually was.

Sander slipped around to the other side of the booth. He knew he had promised Mara that he would control himself until she came back, but what the hell. He was her boss, not the other way around. This section of the club was open to the public, but only slightly. A door at one end of the hall let in the outside world, but the door Sander had to pass through would only work with a keycard. These booths were for a special kind of exhibitionism.

Besides, this was also a relatively low-impact game to play. Sander was cognizant of the fact that Amy was still recovering from her ordeal. He had resolved to go easy on her for a while. Shangri-La was notoriously tough on its slaves, and Sander felt he had plenty of time to ease her into that. For now it was best to allow her to fully recover her strength. She would need it.

Amy found she could look through the hole, giving her limited warning as to who was approaching. So she saw that it was Sander coming to her first. She rolled her eyes as her captor lined himself up with the hole and poked his junk through. Unbidden, her tongue shot out, licking at the head as her mouth engulfed this familiar dick.

Amy's head bobbed rapidly on Sanders hardening prick, hoping that he would cum quickly, tire of this game and let her out of the booth. Spending hours at a time on her knees getting her face fucked didn't exactly appeal to her. Outside, she could hear Sander groan appreciatively as her tongue slid along the underside of his cock. She remembered that he liked that.

For Sander, having Amy suck him off was just a way to relieve the tension that had been building inside him as he forced her to expose herself. He had been all distracted and... well, hard, for a long time, and he didn't expect that he would last particularly long this time. That wasn't a problem, given that the whole point of the booth exercise was to force Amy onto many strange cocks, rather than his own. 

He allowed Amy to slurp up the length of his cock for a few minutes more, before letting go and unloading into her mouth. Amy moaned as the first spray of cum hit the back of her throat, and tried to pull away. The collar wouldn't allow that, and she had no choice but to swallow Sander's copious seed.

His softening cock slid from her lips and out through the hole. Amy growled at him in frustration and opened her mouth to say something through the hole, when suddenly his face appeared on the other side.

'Actually, this is probably a good idea,' He said. 'Command: Do not attempt to speak with or reveal your identity to anyone outside the booth. Just a little safety measure.' He called that last part over his shoulder as he rapidly retreated into the member's only area.

As the door slammed shut behind him, Sander exhaled explosively, 'Well, that was fun!' He exclaimed.

Amy peeked out through the hole, then suddenly found herself jerking back away from the opening. She hadn't told herself to do that; it was the collar working, and Amy knew why.

'Oh, you have really, really got to be kidding me...' She lilted in her lovely Scottish accent. She closed her eyes and hoped that it wasn't true.

Outside, in the hallway, looking around himself furtively, was the Doctor. 

Sometimes, it seemed as though the universe worked to certain narrative rules. The young hero will always fall in love with his female opposite, the heroine can never die, and there was absolutely no chance that the Doctor, with his hand loosening his belt, will ever pick a booth other than the one Amy was in.

Even as the Doctor's dick slid through the hole, Amy couldn't help but feel a little offended. He was supposed to be rescuing her, not trying to get laid in a brothel city! The Doctor had always gotten distracted at crucial moments, but this was fucking ridiculous! She had waited twelve years for him once, and now this? The girl who bloody well waited, indeed!

Amy's jaw clamped shut when she tried to call out. Her body froze when she tried to signal. Moments passed as she struggled with the Command Collar. She was so close! He was right. Fucking. There! This was horrible!

'Hey, hurry up in there,' That achingly familiar voice called out through the thin wall. Amy glared. Still, she found her lips craning forward to take the -surprisingly thick- head of his cock into her mouth.

Amy contemplated other ways to signal to the Doctor. How, precisely, did one communicate with someone while simultaneously lapping at his cock? She supposed she could trace the words "SOS," on the underside of his dick with her tongue... No, that's stupid...

Once the hopelessness of the situation had reasserted itself, Amy realized just what she was doing. She remembered the time she had tried to seduce the Doctor, back in Leadworth. But that was different. That was a world away from being forced to service him in complete anonymity. This was utterly humiliating.

She choked back a sob, or rather, the Doctor's prick did, as it hit the back of her throat. She was having trouble taking all of him into her mouth, but the collar compelled her forward regardless. Her teeth grazed at his sensitive skin, causing a long moan from the other side of the wall.

Her head bobbed mechanically as her mind swirled in a storm of thought. On the one hand, the cock in her mouth belonged to the Doctor. Her Doctor. The one she had waited for since childhood. She had wanted to do this to him more often than she cared to admit.

On the other hand, it was the Doctor. Her friend, who had saved her countless times. Who had rejected her advances in Leadworth, and with good reason; she was married! And Rory... Where was he in all this? Had they split up to search the city, or was he back in the TARDIS? Getting fucked by Sander and Mara, that had been enough of a violation of her wedding vows. But the Doctor was something else. The entire, confused history that the three of them shared, that made this far, far worse.

Her head filled with images of escape, of somehow getting loose from the collar's control. The Doctor was right outside, for god's sake! But there was no way to get to him. The collar's control was absolute, and it made her suck harder, slid her lips over him more energetically. It made her tongue move and twist around the thick piece of meat in her mouth, coating it in her saliva. She had never given a blowjob like this before.

The Doctor began thrusting deeper into her mouth through the hole. Amy had never deep-throated before -she had never needed to- but the Command Collar didn't exactly take that into consideration. She had no idea what kind of intelligence was driving the thing, but it seemed to force her into the least desirable course of action. She groaned in panic, her eyes widening as her pink lips slid progressively further down the Doctor's shaft. She felt the head of his dick hit the back of her throat, and she gagged, yet still the collar compelled her to go deeper. 

Over the course of several seconds, Amy's mouth was forced down, lower and lower, until the entire length of the Doctor's penis was in her. Her throat convulsed as her gag reflex went into overdrive, drawing long, shuddering moans from her. Amy concentrated on breathing through her nose as she began to move again, diving down the full length of his shaft again and again. Her throat burned from the repeated violation, and she coughed and spluttered even as she continued blowing the Doctor. The collar wouldn't allow her to stop.

Suddenly, she drew back, the tip of the Doctor's cock resting on her tongue. There was a moan from the other side of the partition, as a jet of cum landed on her tongue. Amy was left in little doubt of a single fact; Time Lord semen was different from the human variety. It was thinner, like water, and tasted... sort of sweet, in a vague, indefinable way. 

The Doctor came copiously, and Amy wasn't prepared for the sheer volume of the deluge. She swallowed rapidly, desperately, as it filled what remained of her mouth to be filled. 

The Doctor finished, pulling out of her mouth. She lapped enthusiastically at the tip of his prick, licking every last drop of cum from the softening head. She cursed the collar for making her do that, her eyes moistening at the implication of what she had just done.

She tried, once more, to wrench herself free of the collar and call out. It would only take the slightest sound, just one word, to alert him to her presence. But her mouth clamped shut, and she whined in frustration. Was this nightmare ever going to end? Sander had said that the Doctor had lost many friends, and that he had forgotten them all. Given what had just happened, it seemed as if he had forgotten her.

In the tiny, dim booth, time meant very little. Amy couldn't tell if she had been on her knees for a few minutes, or several hours. An endless procession of faceless, anonymous men came for her services, a seemingly unlimited supply of cocks in every shape and size. The collar was merciless and uncaring; she sucked every dick that came through the opening, growing progressively more resigned and exhausted. She swallowed every time, the collar forcing her lips into such a tight, sucking seal that nothing escaped it. Her throat grew raw, her jaw ached, and her mind descended into a bland haze of exhaustion. 

When the final prick slipped out of the hole, and the booth door slid open, she barely registered it. Her eyes were half-closed, and she was drawing deep, shaking breaths through her mouth. In the dim cell, exhausted and kneeling, utterly naked, Amy possessed a ragged, worn-out kind of beauty that made the figure at the door break out in a wide grin.

Amy turned, but the figure was lit from behind and appeared to Amy only as a silhouette. This kind of dignified, showy anonymity didn't last long.

'What up, sweetheart?' Mara giggled, her white teeth gleaming in the low light. She stepped into the booth, looking resplendent in a deep red dress that flowed around her like liquid. The neckline plunged, her soft, strawberry blonde hair falling around her in a shroud. Behind her, Sander leant against the wall, grinning inanely. It was clear that he had been hitting the bar, in that he swayed constantly and seemed to be giggling under his breath. 

Like Sander, Mara was wearing a mask; hers was white and covered her eyes, curving lines like fangs following the edge of her face down to her jaw. Unlike Sander, she was still able to see straight, and didn't smell like a distillery. She possessed enough manual dexterity to bend down and extend a red-gloved hand to Amy, gesturing to indicate that she would help her up off the floor. 

'C'mon. Game's over. If he stays out in public much longer,' Mara jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the inebriated Sander. 'He'll probably get into some trouble, or get killed. Or both, most likely. The point is, I'm back, baby.' 

Amy was too tired, her legs too sore, to snap at her captors, or assert her independence by pulling herself up. She took Mara's hand gratefully and grunted with discomfort as she was pulled bodily to her feet. Her bare thighs quivered, and she moved to cover her nudity once more.

Mara shook her head, 'Come off it, Amy. We're all past that now. From what Sander has been telling me, everyone outside at the bar is past it. Show it if you got it, that's what I say.' 

'That's easy for you to say,' Amy pouted in a breathless, faded way. She really was tired. 'You aren't wearing the collar.'

Mara nodded, 'I wore the first one. Well, I tested the prototype to come out of our manufacturing facility. It's kind of creepy, isn't it?'

Amy nodded back, as emphatically as she could, making Mara laugh. Sander laughed too, but it wasn't entirely clear whether he even knew what was going on. Mara turned to him with an exasperated look, and rolled her eyes.

'Seriously though, we'd better get him out of here. You too, I suppose, before someone out there gets drunk enough to try their luck. I don't know what Sander was thinking; we agreed to leave you alone until I got back,' Mara sighed. ' And then he leaves you all alone in there, and gets plastered? Anything could have happened to you! Well, whatever... Come on.'

'So, what happens next?' 

Mara smiled, this time only looking a little like a shark facing down a baby seal, 'Well, we still have a couple of days here in Chroma. We can take it easy tonight. Tomorrow, well...' Mara stared at Amy, her eyes glinting. 'That's when the fun begins.'



Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 05



Author's note: Hey look, I put one at the start of the chapter this time! Anyway, here's the next chapter. Many thanks to those kind fellows who voted or commented on the preceding chapters. I've been getting some nice feedback, which is always good. Any comments, votes or feedback are entirely welcome. Well, anyway, on with the show...



The sun was rising. At this altitude- six-hundred floors above ground- the warm light became petrified and grayish-blue as it spun through the layers of ice-clouds. It cast the room in silver and grey. Mara liked it. It made her feel somehow... peaceful.

She liked that it was an unfamiliar sun; she had grown up on Vesperia and had only been off world once before now. The sun of Theros was smaller in the sky- Theros itself was at the outer edge of the solar system, but the star itself was unusually bright and powerful- and produced a deeper orange light than she was used to. The sunlight coated Theros in an afternoon light at all times. It was the planet whose daylight was locked in a perpetual five o'clock in the afternoon. Consequently, everybody was drinking all the time.

She looked out the window at the swirling mass of thin grey clouds. The tiny particles of ice tinkled against the airtight, durable glass. She longed to open the window and stick her head out into the glinting, crystalline storm. But the windows this high up didn't open. The air up here was notoriously thin.

Sander and Amy were still asleep, curled up at opposite ends of the large bed. Mara had been between them only moments ago, but she found that, once awake, she couldn't just drift off again. That said, she couldn't blame either of them for wanting to sleep in; Sander had been utterly plastered last night, and Amy... Well, Amy had had enough excitement for now. 

Sander had been out like a light almost as soon as Mara had guided him back to the suite. Mara had been in need of a stiff drink herself at that point, and Amy had needed anything that could wash that sour taste from her mouth. Since the Shangri-La staff had seen fit to stock only booze in the suite's fridge, they had both sat up for a while, drinking the strange, sweet-smelling liquor that glowed a suspect blue. 

It had been the first time that Mara had been properly alone with Amy. Technically, they had been alone before, but that had been different. From Mara's perspective, their last little rendezvous had been little more than fevered lust and desperate, possessive sex. Last night there had been no pressure to do... anything much, let alone anything dirty. The both of them had just been so tired; Amy from being forced to play Sander's sex games, Mara from working non-stop erecting radio relays to convince the Doctor that they had left Theros and taken Amy with them. They had just sort of sat together and got a little tipsy.

For anyone else, sharing a drink with someone you had kidnapped and used as a sex slave would be awkward at best. But not for Mara, who had a complete ignorance of awkward situations. She was able to talk to anyone, in any situation, with remarkable ease and charm. As a result, people warmed up to her very quickly. The liquor helped, but it wasn't long before Amy stopped hunching over defensively and began to relax a little. They still weren't exactly best friends, but it had been interesting to talk candidly with her, if only for a little while.

Obviously, Amy had tried to pry some details out of Mara as to what she and Sander had planned for the next few days. Mara had been entirely honest in outlining what she herself had planned, and had guessed at length about what Sander had in mind. In many ways, this was the most honest relationship Mara had ever had; there was absolutely no reason to hide anything from Amy, since she had no power in this situation. It made a refreshing change from her usual, day-to-day interactions.

She strode across the grey room and perched herself gently on the edge of the bed. Her hand stretched out, almost of its own accord, and stroked Amy's face, causing her eyes to flutter open sleepily.

'Oh good, you're awake!' Mara said brightly. 'I was getting a little bored.'

She stood again, long legs propelling her to the other side of the bed in a few steps. Her bare foot kicked out, hitting the mattress just below where Sander was sleeping, making the whole set-up pitch to one side.

'Hey, boss! It's a big-ass fuckin' new day, Sander. Time to be awake.'

Sander groaned, screwed his eyes shut tighter, and waved a hand dismissively in Mara's face. She kicked out again, her toes prodding him roughly in the chest. He rolled onto his back.

'Fuck off, Mara...' 

'Nuh-uh, boss man. Time's a-wasting. Up and at 'em.' Mara skipped out onto the plush carpet, the hem of her white, button-down shirt- the only piece of clothing she had managed to keep on- fluttering around her. She hit out, punching the light panel on the wall, flooding the room with bright, fluorescent light.

Sander sat up, running his hands through tousled black hair, 'Ugh! Fine, I'm up! What do you want?'

'I want to go out, Sander!' Mara exclaimed, exasperated. 

Sander opened his mouth to snap back a retort, but paused mid-breath. His brow creased with thought, and he tilted his head to one side.

'That's... actually a pretty good idea,' He said finally. 'I don't know about you, but personally, I need to eat something.'

'As long as we leave this room, I don't really care,' Mara nodded energetically, bouncing on the spot.

'We are on a different planet...' Amy said slowly, rubbing at her eyes. 'I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to check it out.'

'Okay! Let's go, then!' Mara was practically running in circles. 

'Right, right. Let's go out. But I want to go somewhere normal. Somewhere that isn't as, y'know, weird as all this,' Sander waved his hands vaguely. 'We've both been here before. Any suggestions?'

'Well, yeah. There is this one place,' Mara said thoughtfully. 'It's kind of hard to find a place that isn't all weird and, y'know, sex-crazed right now. It is the Foundation Festival, after all.'

'So where are you thinking?' Sander stood, stretching.

Mara sighed wistfully, 'Avalon.'

**********

Half an hour later, Sander, Mara and Amy were standing in Avalon, which was, as Mara had explained, a "restaurant with a bad-ass view." 

Staring out of a vast window at the expanse beyond, Amy had to agree.

Avalon was set above the cloud layer that had settled over Chroma, scraping the edge of the atmosphere. The marble floor shuddered almost imperceptibly as hundreds of tiny micro-repulsors kept the floating platform aloft. The dining floor was ringed with windows that let in the breathtaking view of the pure, deep blue expanse of sky beyond, the cloud layer forming a silver, undulating plain that seemed to go on forever. 

'Wow,' Amy breathed, an amazed smile spreading across her face. 

'Alright, well done, Mara,' Sander grinned, tugging at his collar. The view might be special, but it was also all kinds of exclusive. All three of them were dressed to the nines; Sander in a black suit that had inexplicably made its way into his luggage, Mara in a lengthy, flowing blue dress, and Amy wearing, in Mara's words, "something slinky and black. Y'know, with a short skirt."

'How did you even find this place, Mara?' Sander glanced sidelong at his assistant. 

'Oh, it's amazing what some men will do if I bat my eyelashes at them,' Mara said in a sultry, breathy voice. 'Their wallets just open up if they think they're going to get any.'

'Just so you know, I wouldn't mind if you put out when I pay for this one,' Sander smiled suggestively. Mara punched him in the arm.

'We'll see,' Mara smiled back, playfully. Sander blinked in disbelief. Did that just happen?

Amy opened her mouth to say something, but her jaw snapped shut. Sander frowned; before they had left he had used the collar to prevent her from trying to escape or tell anyone about what was going on. Ever since, she had been trying to disobey, he could see it in the sudden, mechanical movements that occasionally overtook her. He pondered whether he should refine the commands; there was nobody around who she could talk to, so the collar must be stopping her from talking about her captivity at all. Still, it was better to be safe...

He didn't regret bringing her out into such a public arena. He stared; standing in front of the window, backlit by the brilliant, unfiltered morning sun, Amy was a picture of loveliness. His gaze turned, regarding the statuesque beauty of Mara, and he grinned. Out to an expensive breakfast with a literally world-class view, accompanied by two stunning women? Yeah, that sounds good.

They situated themselves at a table by the window; it seemed like a waste not to take full advantage of the view. Sander hit a panel on the side of the table and the section of glass closest to them tinted, giving them a slight reprieve from the dazzling brightness of the all-too-close sun. Avalon moved throughout the day to keep the sun shining on the roof, and blanking out the windows when that became impossible; if it didn't, the sun would be blinding, burning, unbearable. Below the constantly moving cloud layers, the light was tolerable, but this high in the atmosphere, well, there were prices to be paid for such a spectacular view. 

'So... food...' Amy said in a listless, vague way that so acutely conveyed her total uncertainty at the situation she was in. She had traveled to many different time periods in her travels with the Doctor, but always in a short-lived, compartmentalized little episode. Even in those times when she hadn't been fighting for her life against some alien monster or another, Amy had never really absorbed any contextual information about the places she had been to. It had all just passed by, not completely without lasting impact, but just as fleeting glimpses into another time. Now, completely displaced and set adrift and placed in an utterly domestic scene, Amy was at a loss as to how to act. 

'Yes, indeed!' Sander said brightly. 'Now, you have to admit, kidnapping or no, this place is pretty damn impressive.'

Amy rolled her eyes, 'Yeah, it's pretty cool.' She admitted grudgingly. 

'"Pretty cool?" An entire array of micro-repulsor units making thousands of calculations per second in order to change position just enough to keep a few tons of building aloft thousands of miles in the air, just inside the atmosphere of a planet orbiting a giant red star. That's not "pretty cool," Amy,' Sander grinned toothily. 'That's fucking incredible.'

'And yet entirely par for the course...' Mara said flatly. 'Can we just order?'

'Where is your sense of wonderment, Mara? We are floating, guys! If we rose up even a few feet, we would be in space. We are literally at the curvature of the planet! That's cool!' Sander enthused, drumming his hands on the table. 

Despite herself, Amy smiled, 'It's impressive. Nice view.'

'"Nice view?" It's-'

'Alright!' Amy cut in. 'It's miraculous. It's bloody wonderful! Have I used enough superlatives yet? Anyway, can we order? We didn't exactly spend a lot of time eating yesterday.'

'You did,' Mara said quietly. 'Granted, it wasn't exactly food, but...' She trailed off with an evil glare. Amy shot her a venomous look and wound up to say something.

'Now, now, children...' Sander said. 'Let's not fight. Maybe we should get a menu or something.' He pressed another button to summon some service, conscious of Amy watching everything he did. What must all these tiny, minute differences look like to her?

'Well, the future certainly is... convenient,' Amy mused. She propped up her chin on one palm and stared at Sander like she was searching for something. Her gaze was steady and expectant, and Sander found himself looking away without even realizing it. Amy's mouth curved into a tiny, calculating smile; she felt good about being able to make Sander uncomfortable. In her cell he had all the power. Out here, in a normal- well, more normal than the asteroid- situation, the balance of power had been redressed, if only slightly. He was no longer in control of every little thing, and although he still had her in his power, Amy could tell that that lack of total control made him nervous. That's why he was trying to be garrulous and friendly. Well, she could play that game too...

They ordered. Food came. Everybody ate. And all the time, Amy speared Sander with her stare, pushing him further and further into himself, squeezing the conversation out of him. Her steady, intense gaze seemed to make him incredibly uncomfortable, whether through some strange social anxiety or guilt, Amy didn't know. She persisted, though it was a small revenge. 

But as Amy watched Sander, Mara watched Amy. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Amy's game; this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Hell, the frustration in Sander's eyes indicated that even he knew he was being fucked with, but he was unable to get over it all the same. Sander was a genius, and when he was in control he could be glorious to behold, but now it looked like something was putting him off his game. 

Mara thought she knew; although they were still fairly safe here, Avalon was not as hospitable an environment as the base, or even Shangri-La. There was much that could go wrong here. Come to that, the Doctor still hadn't left the planet yet. If anyone was capable of coming up here and ruining Sander's day, it was the Doctor. Sander didn't like unnecessary risks, even if he was indulging in a walk on the wild side by letting Mara drag him around today. And Amy had been trying to fool the collar, Mara could tell. Her body language changed whenever the collar kicked in to prevent her from doing something. It was time to remind her who was boss.

'Hey, Amy,' Mara leaned across to whisper in Amy's ear. 'Do you feel like playing a game?'

Amy pulled away, going a little pale, 'No, not really. Thanks all the same.'

'Well, that's too bad...' Mara sang. 'Command: Finger yourself under the table, but don't cum.' She gave a triumphant little grin.

Amy whimpered as the balance of power shifted yet again and her hand slipped down under the table. Of course, she knew that something like this had been a distinct possibility from the outset; why else would her captors have insisted that she not wear underwear? But even so, as her fingers slipped along her bare thighs and under the short hem of her skirt, she couldn't believe it was starting up again so soon. Especially not in a public setting. Being stripped and paraded in front of the unseemly individuals at Shangri-La had been bad enough, and certainly not an experience she wished to repeat, but this was far worse. Jaded as they had been, the audience at Shangri-La had at least been an appropriate one. 

Her lip trembled as her fingers found her pussy, and she cast her eyes down, now unable to meet anyone's gaze herself. 

Sander smiled, spirits buoyed by Mara's inventiveness, 'Well now, this looks like fun... Come along, Pond,' He said, stressing the first word into innuendo.

Two fingers slid stiffly into Amy's slit, commencing with a slow, deliberate motion inside her. Her eyes darted the length of the restaurant, sweeping the room for any signs of interest from the other diners. Thankfully, the only audience Amy had was Sander and Mara, who both smiled with amusement as the effects of her surreptitious masturbation began to show. 

Her breathing became quick and ragged and her cheeks flushed red as her fingers slid deeper into her honey pot. She cast her eyes down to the table, unwilling to meet her captor's wicked stares, her hair falling around her like a curtain, providing her a modicum of concealment. 

Her fingers were coated in juices and, as her clit popped to the fore, Amy's thumb moved up to begin an insistent pressure on her sensitive button. She bit her lip to stop herself from moaning out loud. 

'Come on...' Amy gasped softly. 'Please stop...'

Mara tilted her head to one side, grinned wider. She liked hearing Amy beg, so she was using the wrong tactic if she wanted mercy here, even assuming that Mara would be willing to grant it in any case. 

Amy's thighs clenched as her fingers curled inside her. The collar worked by tweaking brainwaves; it couldn't introduce anything new into the actions of its victim. It could only induce Amy to act; the actual technique that was causing the torturous, ecstatic sensation was her own. And that only made it worse. It would have been easy for Amy to separate herself from the acts she was being forced to commit had the movements not been so natural, so familiar. She recognized each individual motion of her finger-fucking, each heated, slow curl of her fingers, from those times in the past when she had been hot and bothered, and all alone. Those times when she had lay in bed and fingered herself to a delicious climax while thinking of any number of ribald scenarios and fantasies.

Her fingers circled her clit, causing her hips to buck, driving her fingers deeper. She gritted her teeth as a shudder wracked her body, every nerve enflamed and burning with desire. Her eyes closed, her muscles taut, her breathing deep and hoarse and her teeth grinding with frustration because the collar seemed to know when she was right on the edge and it refused to tip her over it. The command was unbreakable.

The constant soft, fluttering pressure on her clit, the light, tickling caresses on her soft inner walls, the silent, vaguely mocking attention of the audience of two, all combined to create a singular, growing heat in the pit of Amy's stomach that set her teeth on edge. The humiliation of the public setting intermingled with her growing confusion and lust. It was becoming harder to think. Harder to conceal the effects of her increasingly heated fingering. 

Her fingers rubbed, deep inside her, and she moaned, loudly, breathlessly. Many eyes turned. Mara laughed, and applauded as though Amy's humiliation was a private show just for her. In a way, it was. 

'Please s-stop,' Amy panted unsteadily, sweat beading on her forehead. 

'Oh, no, no,' Mara lowered her voice and drew herself closer to Amy. She inspected the deep crimson blush of her normally pale cheeks, the adorable way she bit down on her lower lip, the hunted, desperate look in her eyes. 'You're not getting off that easily,' She giggled at her attempt at wordplay.

'I think you're going to have to beg for it...' Sander sighed. He sensed that this game had gotten away from him; it was now just for Amy and Mara. And, unsurprisingly, Mara was winning. 

Amy knew that this wasn't going to end well for her. She was going to beg, there was no doubt about it; notably, Mara hadn't commanded her. She wanted it to be something Amy did on her own. 

'Please... P-please let me cum,' Amy whimpered, her head bent low. Tears dropped wetly to the polished tabletop. 

'Hmm...' Mara stroked her chin. 'I don't know... What do you think, Sander?'

'Oh, don't drag me into this...' Sander stared absently out of the window, savoring the spectacular view and, privately, Amy's quiet, pleasured noises.

'Alright, finish yourself off,' Mara said. 

Amy's fingers plunged deep within herself, thumb pressing into her engorged clit. It didn't take long. She stiffened, exhaling in an unbroken, shuddering sigh as the orgasm exploded through her. The muscles in her thighs and stomach tightened, the fingers of her free hand gripping the table tightly. Her hand, and her skirt, were drenched in her juices. Her breath tapered off as she came down, and she was unable to contain the languorous moan that followed. She sank lower in her seat, eyes clouded with desire and anger.

'Hmm. Maybe we should bounce, ladies,' Sander surveyed the dining room, seeing numerous eyes turned towards the display. A few of them looked interested, but in general there was irritation. This was an expensive restaurant, after all. It wasn't Shangri-La.




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 05



'You're right, boss,' Mara arched her eyebrow, staring back at the onlookers, as though daring them to say anything. Amazingly, all of them backed down. Mara could look pretty dangerous at times.

'You bastards...' Amy panted, the collar shining on her neck, the undiluted sunlight sending brilliant starbursts across it. The thing seemed somehow triumphant, as if it was enjoying a job well done. 

'Look on the bright side: You got off,' Mara said. 'Which is more than I can say for the rest of us, Miss Pond. You'll have to rectify that. Sander, pick up the bill.' She stood, taking Amy by the hand and pulling her out of her seat and out towards the glass double doors. Beyond, the landing pad awaited, with private shuttles to ferry customers back down to the planet's surface. Sander sighed, and wondered whether Mara was serious about putting out in return for a free breakfast. 

After almost choking at the sheer magnitude of the bill, Sander followed his women. They were waiting for him in a sleek black shuttlecraft, but the way it hovered off of the ground implied that Mara at least didn't intend to wait for long. 

'Time is money, Sander,' She called to him as he crossed the landing pad. He picked up his pace.

'Isn't this getting just a little excessive?' Amy asked, as the shuttle descended rapidly through the cloud layer. Both Sander and Mara had been entranced by the tumultuous, undulating grey pattern outside the ship, but they jerked to attention when Amy spoke.

'Excessive?' Mara laughed. 'Baby, we're just getting started.'

'That's what worries me,' Amy muttered to herself, turning her head to the window to avoid having to look at them anymore. She rolled her eyes, and hoped against hope that the Doctor and Rory were still on this planet, searching for her. And that the Doctor could keep it in his pants long enough to find her.

She was still annoyed about his skipping out on the search party to get laid. That hardly seemed gentlemanly.

The shuttle landed. All at once, the trio was enveloped back into the neon embrace of the Foundation Festival. It was a little shocking how just how quickly the transition had happened. Up there, above the clouds, they had existed in a world of dignity and grace. Down here, in the undercroft of the towering metropolis, they were in a chaotic storm of pressed bodies, neon starlight and the constant presence of the music, thumping away like a hammer on an anvil. One would be hard pressed to pick the moment that they had traveled from one world to the other.

The streets whirled with life, like the veins of some immense living creature. They were bathed in light and shadow, the music pressing down, the crowd shunting them back and forth. Now that they were back at ground level, each of them was wearing a different kind of mask. Anonymity was important, not only to avoid detection, but also to fit in with the crowd of similarly disguised revelers. Sander and Mara had stuck with their black and white ones from earlier, but they had been kinder to Amy this time. The white mask she had been given covered her whole face, but her eyes and mouth were free. Her captors were becoming more confident, and confidence bred mistakes. Amy cursed her luck; if she could only get free of the collar, she could escape!

She had been toying with ideas for how to get around the horrid little device. Of course, the task was made much more difficult since she had no idea how the collar operated or literally performed the task it was designed for. It was hard to figure out the mysterious phantom pressure that overtook her when her jailers used the command word. Something like this shouldn't exist, not in a moral universe. There had to be laws against it, right? 

But then, laws didn't count for much in Chroma, did they?

But Amy was smart, and she had been generating escape plans for days now. Could she break from her orders by keeping one thought strongly in her mind while performing a completely opposite action? No, the collar stopped her.

Could the collar be overworked? If she had two orders operating at once, could obeying one allow her to disobey the other? No, the collar stopped her.

Could she creatively reinterpret a standing order to work against Sander? No, not with the direct orders she had been given so far.

How did the collar work? Could it be shorted out, or broken somehow? Was there some way to take it off, even with Sander's standing order not to? So many questions, but no answers. How utterly frustrating. She wanted to scream, but of course, that would be breaking orders.

Suddenly, Sander's strong arms pushed her into an alley, out of sight. His free hand flew out, grabbing Mara by the shoulder and tugging her roughly after him. When she finally got a stable glimpse of him, Amy saw that his eyes were dark as thunderclouds. 

'What is it?' Mara hissed. 

'Williams,' Sander growled, and Amy's heart skipped a beat. Her face lit up, and for the first time in days she was happy again. Rory! He was so close! She slid away from the two of them, edging closer to the mouth of the alley. It would only take a second. Just one glimpse...

She broke into a run.

'Command: Freeze!' Sander barked, his voice ringing out harsh and cold as ice. It resounded through Amy's tiny little world; she felt like it was growing smaller by the second. 

Her muscles went dead. She skidded to a stop, mere inches from the corner. Inches from her husband.

'Get back here,' Sander snarled, face suddenly all sharp edges and deep shadows. 'Command: No moving. No talking. If he comes closer, you get out of his sight. Make sure he doesn't see you. Understand?'

Amy nodded, sobs bubbling up in her throat. Tears flowed, and she stepped away from the precipice, taking her place next to Mara and freezing there. Her muscles fell away from her, numb and useless. Sander strode purposefully to the mouth of the alley.

'Hey!' Mara called. 'Where are you going?'

He turned back, eyes sparkling with a dazzling internal light, 'I'm going to go speak to him.' He grinned wolfishly, and stepped out of sight.

Rory was still milling about in the crowd, his desire to rescue Amy clearly conflicting with his intense aversion to the scary kinds of people that made up the bulk of the Foundation Festival revelers. Sander was impressed to see that Rory was talking to the crowd anyway; it wasn't an activity that Sander himself particularly wished to engage in. 

As he drew closer, Sander saw that Rory was carrying a little photo of his wife, and he would brandish it at passersby, complete with rushed requests for information as they walked by. He wasn't having much success, but Sander frowned anyway. People were seeing that photo, it would only take one of them to recognize Amy and give the game away. They had been careful in hiding her away from public view, but anything could happen on a planet like Theros. Hell, anything could happen with a person like the Doctor.

Taking a brief moment to resettle his mask on the bridge of his nose- anonymity was important for Sander too, since he had insisted on cameras in his base- he set off at a trot, shouldering his way through the crowd.

'You seem lost,' He called as he drew closer to Rory, trying to make his voice deeper, rougher. There was a moment of crystalline fear as Rory turned to face him, and it was undetermined whether he would be recognized or not.

'Well, actually... Yeah, you could say that...' Rory said uncertainly. 'I'm looking for someone. Her name's Amy. Here,' He proffered Sander the picture. He made a show of inspecting it, trying desperately to hold back his manic, simultaneous fear and thrilling, mad joy.

Sander nodded, 'Uh... Yeah. Yeah, I've seen her.' 

Rory tensed up, grabbed Sander's collar, as though to stop him from drifting away, 'You've seen Amy?' He shouted. 'Where?'

Sander feigned surprise, and pulled away a little. He was quite enjoying all this play-acting, 'She was boarding a shuttle at the spaceport, with some other guys. Seemed kind of on edge.' 

'The spaceport! Right! Which one? When was this?'

Sander nodded again, 'Um, the Schofeldt port, the one downtown. This'd be... Oh, yesterday, I guess?'

'You guess, or you know? This is important!' Rory was inches from Sander's face. It was truly mystifying that he couldn't recognize him from this distance. 

'I'm positive. Schofeldt port. Yesterday,' Sander said, 'Why all the urgency? Who is she?' 

Rory was already running, but he stopped, turned at the question, 'She's my wife!'

'Do you love her?' Sander said in a quiet, dead tone. His eyes were so cold through the mask, as he eyed Rory.

'Yes, more than anything,' Rory answered, quickly, clearly. Honestly. 

'That's good,' Sander said, voice dwindling away to nothing. 'That's very, very good.'

But Rory was already gone. He was running to meet back up with the Doctor. They would be going, now. Mara had planted the false relays and fake boarding logs at the Schofeldt spaceport. The Doctor would find them, and he would drift off back into space, away from them all. Sander turned. His job was done.

'Elsa...' He breathed, his own personal mantra. It was good that Rory loved Amy. It gave the whole situation a pleasant symmetry. 

He knew how Rory was feeling now. So easy to predict what he would do.

*******

Amy swung towards Sander as he re-entered the alley, 'What did you do?' She demanded, striding down the alley to grab him by the shoulders.

'Nothing,' Sander replied, shrugging away from her hands.

'If you've hurt him-'

'He's fine!' Sander called over his shoulder. 'I just sent him on his way, is all. Directed him to the bogus relays.'

'Oh, and that didn't seem suspicious to you? Because we can't afford to fuck this up, boss,' Mara stretched away from the wall she had been leaning against, watching over Sander's shoulder as Amy pursued him.

'What did you do, Sander?' Amy yelled. Sander shot Mara a questioning look.

'I released her from those last few orders, when it became clear that the Doctor wouldn't suddenly swoop down in his magic box and kill us all,' Mara shrugged. 'Seriously, though, are you sure you did a good thing?'

'Yes, I'm sure!' Sander snapped. 'Rory will find the Doctor, and they'll both fly away. We'll probably need to change some things around back at the base, since they've probably seen the cells and everything now. Y'know, make it seem like we've changed location. Now, will Amy be a good girl and cooperate with us for the rest of our little vacation?'

Mara grinned, caught on to the game, 'Or will we have to punish her? As if you had to ask!'

'I hate you two,' Amy muttered darkly. Her pretty eyes flashed with anger, and fear, and all-consuming concern for Rory. Sander took her face in his hands, firmly enough to stop her from pulling away.

'I didn't hurt him,' He said, looking her full in the eyes. The raging, wrathful emotions seemed to die down, just a little.

'Well, whatever,' Amy said. It was hard to read her expression through the mask, but her eyes said plenty. 

'I'm getting bored...' Mara yawned. 'So very, very bored.'

'Yeah, probably not a good idea to stick around, ladies.' Sander clapped his hands together. He offered his arm to Amy, 'Shall we?'

Grudgingly, Amy linked arms with her captor and allowed him to lead her out onto the street- a very definitely different street to the one they had just been on. It was only a short walk until they were once again standing in front of Shangri-La.

'Well then, shall we begin the games?' Sander wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Amy shook her head flatly, prompting Sander and Mara to shrug in unison. They led her through the glass doors, then through the back to the elevator. Sander made a point of winking at Pearl as they passed her.

Back in the suite, Sander conscientiously locked the door, then pulled Mara aside, 'So, how're we going to play this one?' He whispered in her ear.

Mara shrugged, 'Get naughty?' She suggested.

Sander laughed, then went silent, 'No, seriously. We have no plan.'

'Sander, you spent thirteen years constructing an elaborate secret base on an asteroid hurtling through space; the whole point of which was to displace a woman through time, stealing her away and then concealing her from a nine-hundred and three year old alien who can travel through time. You should be able to figure out what you should do with a room full of expensive sex toys and two beautiful women. In at least half the time.'

Sander's brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to say something, and closed it again. He repeated the process, his eyes almost crossing with the effort of constructing a snappy comeback. He gave up.

'Goddamn it, Mara...'

Mara shook her head, blonde hair flowing around her. Her ice-blue eyes sparkled in that particular way; she was thinking. That was never good.

'Alright, you slow bastard. Follow my lead. Amy!' Mara snapped her fingers, never taking her eyes off Sander.

Amy sighed and rolled her eyes, pulling at the straps of her dress. It simply could not be a good thing; being this used to being naked around one's kidnappers. Her black dress pooled around her ankles, leaving Amy bare. She gestured widely with her hands, as if to say "happy now?"

Mara laughed, briskly stepping out of her own dress. Underneath she was as naked as Amy, an image that made Sander blink at her in disbelief.

'Oh, you are awesome!' He laughed, applauding her. Mara gave a huge, theatrical bow. Sander stared at her every motion, watching the play of tightly toned muscles beneath her perfect, pale skin. She looked up, saw him watching, and grinned.

'Okay, so you definitely, definitely like what you see,' She said with a rough giggle. 'Well, I guess I do owe you a little something... Come here.'

She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close, standing on the tips of her toes to press her lips against his. Sander's eyes widened, then closed as he felt Mara poke him in the back and glare at him from their uncomfortably close distance. 

Mara was known for committing totally to every action she took; her tongue worked against Sander's, practically sucking the breath from his lungs. He could feel the warmth of her skin pressed against the fine cloth of his shirt, the soft, weighty feel of her breasts against his chest. She broke the kiss, spinning away from him and giving a long, throaty laugh.

'Holy hell!' Sander gasped, drawing in a huge breath. Mara shook her head.

'Don't read too much into it, boss man. Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss. So follow that logic now, no matter what happens.' She stepped closer to him, all lithe grace and intoxicating beauty. Out of the corner of his eye, Sander could see that Amy had taken a seat on the bed and was staring around the room with a bored expression. Normally, that would bother him, but right now he was unable to think of anything but the naked woman in front of him.

'I'm just asking that you don't fall in love with me,' Mara grinned wolfishly, winking at him. Sander gave a little laugh, in the back of his throat, and nodded. Mara slithered down, onto her knees, and lifted her hands to divest Sander of his belt in a single, shockingly strong tug. 

'You are an interesting woman, you know that?' Sander cocked his head to one side as Mara unzipped his fly.

'I strive for interesting,' Mara answered almost immediately, without diverting her eyes from the task at hand. 'In everything. Just so you know, I don't usually go for many men. Humanity has spread across a thousand worlds, and every one of them contains the same three types of man: alpha-male, new-age, and assholes. I guess this makes you interesting, too.' She smiled, then leaned in, sliding the head of his cock into the warm confines of her beautiful mouth.

Sander groaned as Mara's tongue went mobile, sweeping over every inch of the stiffening member. Her lips formed a tight O, sweeping down to the base, tongue pressed flat against the underside. In seconds, Sander was completely, achingly hard inside Mara's skilled mouth. 

She pulled away, making Sander follow her with his hips. She shook her head, licking the head of his cock one final time before removing her mouth completely. She knelt there, staring up at him slyly, her long fingers slowly caressing his swollen member. Her free hand extended, pointed at Amy.

'Amy!' She barked, gesturing to a spot on the carpet beside her. Amy made a frustrated noise, but joined Mara on the floor regardless. Two pairs of sparkling eyes stared up at Sander, and he wondered just what, exactly, he had done in a past life to incur such good fortune.

'Well? What do you wanna do now, boss?' Mara grinned, one hand absently tracing up and down Amy's back, the other up and down Sander's dick. 

Sander didn't need to think, he already knew, 'I want to fuck you, Mara.' He said through gritted teeth, straining with frustration against the blonde's teasing touch. Mara gave a tinkling, bright laugh.

'I like that plan!' Amy piped up, shifting her weight from knee to knee. 'You two should do that. I'd just be a third wheel.'

'That's an outmoded expression...' Mara mused. 'Anyway, your suggestion is noted, Sander. All in good time. But why rush things? Both of us are down here... Use your imagination, Sander...' She purred. 'For example...' 

Mara's hand entwined itself into Amy's hair, pushing her forward. She had a strong grip, and Amy had no choice but to open her mouth as she was pushed closer to Sander's crotch. Mara gently rubbed the tip along the rounded curve of Amy's lips, tracing it around the soft skin again and again, fingers clenched to keep Amy immobile.

'Surely you want this, too? Right, Sander?' She whispered, biting her lower lip. She had to admit, this was working for her, too.

'Yes, dammit!' Sander hissed, fists clenched at his sides. He had the strange feeling that making any sudden moves himself would somehow break the spell, and Mara would lose interest in playing. Below him, Amy whimpered, not daring to close her mouth for the same reason, and Sander almost lost it.

'I think he likes you, Amy,' Mara giggled. 'And I think that a part of you is liking this treatment too. Why don't you show him how willing you are, and maybe we'll show you how much we like you. If you're good.'

Mara positioned Sander's prick at Amy's lips, and pushed forward, as gently as she could. Amy's mouth engulfed Sander, taking him down as deep as she could with one stroke. There was something different going on. Something in the air. Mara hadn't used the collar or anything, but Amy could tell that she was running the show now. She really didn't want to know what would happen if she disobeyed.

'It's all one big love-fest right here...' Mara said dreamily as she watched Amy perform orally. 

They watched, the statuesque blonde and the dark-eyed man, as the young redhead bobbed her head as energetically as she could. He savored the moment, his cock disappearing between her soft, pink lips. Mara watching with undisguised interest, the fingers of her right hand rubbing slowly between her legs. There were very few perfect moments in life; one needed to commit every detail of them to memory. It helped to know that they were there, when times were a little rougher.

'So, where do you want to... end up, I guess?' Mara said. 

'You already know where,' Sander rumbled, mind enflamed and the alpha-male within in total control. He withdrew from Amy and lifted Mara bodily from the floor and tossed her onto the bed, where she bounced, naked flesh jiggling enticingly.

'Oh yeah?' Mara smirked. 'Fuck, alright! Bring it on, if you think you can handle me!' Her eyes were burning with intense desire and a vague challenge.

'That's what I wanted to hear!' Sander gave a razor-edged grin and charged the bed himself. Mara's long, graceful legs parted to allow him to step between them. Sander lifted calves that curved into delicate, beautiful feet onto his shoulders. His hands caressed down her thighs, as he slid deeply into her in one smooth motion. She moaned, her eyes capturing his and holding them with her strong, ice blue gaze. He began his first, slow thrusts into her welcoming depths, eyes shackled to hers, searching for... something. The connection had been made; it would be impossible to tear himself away from the perfect clarity of her stare.




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 05



Mara stared back, unblinking, her toes curling as the rubbing inside her ignited a powerful heat. She lifted herself up off her back, grabbing Sander's hand and guiding it to her breasts, using her new leverage to pull him down onto the bed with her. In a rare show of submission, she allowed Sander to dictate the pace of their fucking, wrapping her legs around his waist and surrendering completely to his skilled- and increasingly forceful- thrusts. 

He held himself over her, propped up on one arm as his free hand glided across every inch of Mara's beautiful body. Her skin was perfect, as smooth as marble to the touch. She pulled him down, kissing him forcefully as her hands worked to undo his tie and unbutton his shirt. The rich, heavy scent of her perfume, the taste of her mouth on his, the sweet, wonderful warmth of her body melding into Sander's with every deep thrust, the tiny, delicate sound of her squealing; all of it combined into a single, sensuous moment of pure, unadulterated heat. 

But Mara wasn't done yet. Sander hadn't just recruited her for her skills in the bedroom, and even in the throes of passion he could see her mind working away behind those intoxicating azure eyes. One hand shot out across the bed, grabbed Amy by the scruff of her neck and forced her in for a rough, crushing kiss that left them both breathless. She grinned, white teeth sparkling and gritted to prevent herself from crying out, and she gestured with her free hand, offering their little pet to him, as though she was just a tool for their mutual pleasure. Sander took full advantage, forcing his tongue into her mouth before dipping his head to tease her delicate pink nipples. He could hear, just past Mara's increasingly strident pants, Amy's breath quicken as he did so. Mara nodded as she noticed the look in his eye, one hand trailing down between her legs to rub at her swollen clit.

'Amy...' She began, panting with each stroke. 'Command:... Play with.... Yourself... Uh! Use... One of the t-toys... from the closet... Quickly now! Ah!'

Sander crushed Mara's body to his now bare chest, his teeth nipping at her shoulder, 'Well, Mara?' He whispered in her ear, his hot breath so close it made her shudder with excitement. 'Am I man enough for you? Handling you...' He thrust in, causing her to scream, 'Well enough for your liking?'

'Oh, fuck yes!' She groaned, burying her face in his neck. Amy had returned from her trip to the ominous black armoire, having selected a thin silver vibrator for her pleasure. She knelt next to them on the bed, her knees spread as wide as she could. Her hand rose, then fell between her creamy thighs, pressing the vibrator into her folds. The tinny buzz of the machine beginning its work could be heard, when Mara was quiet enough to hear anything but her exaltations. 

'Now, you g-get yourself off, Amy,' Mara moaned. 'As many... times as possible.'

Amy whined pathetically as her hand pressed the vibrator harder against her love button. The tiny device was merciless, buzzing against her vulnerable opening, building the terrible pressure and heat within her. The bed beneath her quickly became slick with her juices. Her eyes were drawn inexorably to Sander and Mara's high-energy lovemaking as if it were a private show just for her. Her eyes clouded with lust and, despite the objections of her mind, she came, teeth gritted and muscles shuddering as the vibrator slipped inside her pussy.

To her horror, she discovered that another climax was building within her, mere moments after coming down from her first. The nature of Mara's order became clear to her; obviously, she had become bored with merely denying her orgasms until she begged for them. 

'How are you... going, Sander?' Mara teased through clenched teeth. 'Ready to... cum yet?'

'Fuck you, Mara!' Sander hissed. 

'You already are, genius!'

'I know! And I can... keep going just as long as you can!' 

Mara whimpered, and it was a soft, wonderful sound, 'Truth is... I don't know how much longer I can last, boss.'

Sander leaned in and kissed her again, nipping at her bottom lip, 'Then let go and enjoy yourself. There's no restrictions on cumming between us... or at all, by the sounds of it,' He jerked his head towards Amy, who was in the throes of a third orgasm. 

'Oh, good. Because I've already got off, lover,' She offered him her trademark sarcastic smile. 'And now I want you to cum in me, Sander.' She gave a low groan as he pressed his thumb into her clit. 'It's been a while since I've done that...'

'You are fucking magnificent,' Sander rumbled, bending low to lick at her nipples. He thrust in as deeply as he could, giving off a long, loud growl as he came, unloading shot after shot of cum into Mara's pulsating tunnel. She grew languid in his arms as he withdrew from her, his still twitching cock suddenly bereft of her warmth. Amy was screaming beside them, but they were lost in the afterglow.

'Damn, man...' Mara breathed, kissing Sander on the cheek.

'Yeah...' He said vaguely, rolling onto his back beside her. 'That was fun.'

'Yes it was!' Mara chuckled, her eyes drifting to the twitching, shaking form of Amy Pond. 'What do we do with her?'

'After letting me do that? Anything you want!'

'I didn't "let" you do anything, Sander,' Mara propped herself up on one arm, anxious to let her boss know that she hadn't acquiesced to anything. 'We didn't do anything I didn't want to, and after your performance, well... It can be a repeated thing, if you like,' She broke eye contact, seeming a little uncomfortable. Maybe she had intimacy issues, Sander didn't know. Didn't care, either, if what she was offering was casual sex.

'I would like that, you bloody beautiful thing...' He pulled closer, nuzzling at the curve of her shoulder. She shrugged him off.

'Nuh-uh. A kiss is just a kiss, remember?'

'And a fuck is just a fuck, except when it isn't, Mara. You were looking kind of cozy with me just then.'

'You must be mistaken,' She said, with a little smile. 'Besides, you shouldn't ruin the moment. Just enjoy it for what it is, Sander. Don't think of the future, okay? It just clouds the present.'

'Alright...' He said, knowing deep down that this wasn't over yet. He kissed her again, passionately, deeply. No, this wasn't quite over. Not yet.

'I... don't mean t-to interrupt,' Amy gasped, sex toy still pressed deeply inside her soaking vagina. 'Well, actually... Y-yes I do. Ah!' She cried out as her pussy clenched down around the vibrator and another orgasm struck her like a physical blow.

'Oh, right... Keep going. I don't mean to interrupt, either,' Mara grinned, biting down on Sanders broad shoulder one last time before withdrawing from his embrace, picking herself up off the bed and padding lithely over to the wardrobe. 

She swung the doors wide, but from Sander's perspective the contents of the thing remained a mystery. He toyed with the idea of joining her, but he didn't want to send the wrong message, and besides, she was way more imaginative when it came to these matters than he could ever be. 

She returned to the bed, holding aloft a black silk blindfold in one hand, with the other holding something behind her back. She tossed the blindfold to Sander, 'You know what to do!' She said brightly, winking.

He nodded, crawling over to Amy and wrapping the thick material around her eyes, causing her to whimper helplessly, her sweetly scented dew still dripping from between her legs. At another corner of the room, Mara was busy threading a pair of steel shackles through a hook in the roof. At her feet was a bright pink spreader bar.

'Oh, I see...' Sander nodded approvingly, prompting Mara to raise a finger to her lips and "Shhh!" him. He laughed. So did she.

Amy's mouth gaped as she struggled to breathe, huge, wracking sobs of pleasure and shame coursing through her. Her legs trembled as the vibrator continued its merciless work. Her ass was resting in a pool of her own juices, and the muscles of her flanks pulsed and tightened seemingly at random. Her head turned to the source of every noise in the room, fruitlessly trying to penetrate the veil of her blindfold.

Sander took Amy's hand and pulled her to her feet. The command had not been retracted, so she persisted in fucking herself with the vibrator. Her legs shook, and barely supported her as she was lead under the hook, and her hands were guided firmly up above her head, slid into the cold, biting manacles. 

'Oh, come on!' Amy cried, as she felt the unyielding metal close around her wrists. At least she was free of the vibrator now.

'Silence!' Mara shouted, laying a forceful open-palmed slap on Amy's shapely bottom. She jerked in her restraints, crying loudly.

'Please...' She whimpered.

'Hey! Didn't you hear the lady?' Sander growled, getting into the spirit of this new game. 'Your Mistress demands silence.' 

Mara gave him the thumbs up, nodding with energetic approval. She gave him the universal "go on..." gesture.

'But since you obviously don't listen, things will get a little harder for you,' He continued, reaching up to take hold of the chains and loop them around the hook even tighter, shortening Amy's available wiggle-room, the end result of which was that she was forced onto the tips of her toes, body hanging there with a delicious forward curve. Her breasts jutted forward, and Sander couldn't resist reaching up to cup them in his large hands, thumbs tickling the nipples.

'You are ours, Amy Pond,' He said slowly, looking to Mara for approval. She gave it with a particularly toothy smile.

'Okay, hit it, Mara,' Sander shrugged, stepping away and ceding control to a more experienced party.

'Good choice, Sander,' Mara stepped forward, running her hands down Amy's waist. She wiggled her eyebrows at Sander, and began tickling Amy's vulnerable skin. She laughed, helplessly, despairingly, sobbing in deep breaths whenever her lungs were exhausted.

'Stop! Stop!' She begged breathlessly, and Mara did. Once again, her hand descended, spanking Amy hard enough to leave a red welt.

'We demanded silence, Pond. Perfectly responsive body, housing a disobedient mind, it seems.'

Sander shook his head, 'As if we didn't already know that...'

'In any case, punishment!' Mara skipped softly across the carpet, back to the black armoire. She pointed over her shoulder at the spreader bar on the floor, then at Amy. She dipped further into the closet.

Dutifully, Sander took hold of Amy's ankles and slotted them into the cuffs at either end of the bar, listening to her bite back her protests and whimper as Sander ran a hand firmly down her buttock. With her legs spread wide, Amy's pussy was on full display, and Sander couldn't resist running a finger along her dew-covered folds, tasting her juices. 

'Ah-ha! Now we're cooking with fire!' Mara crowed, jumping back from the closet and pumping her fists in the air, each hand tightly curled around a small object. 

'What? What's up?' Sander moved in for a closer look. Mara glanced up, speculatively. He really was quite a handsome man...

She shook her head, 'Check this out.'

Mara produced a little black rod and wiggled it in Sander's face. Sander nodded, understanding dawning on his face.

'Mara, that's a rather ugly mind you have.'

'You love it.'

'Sure,' Sander sighed, following Mara to inspect Amy's helpless form. Mara dipped down, sliding the tiny device along Amy's slit before driving it in until the end disappeared between her labia. Amy moaned in frustration, her hands pulling against the shackles.

This was a familiar situation; naked, tied and blindfolded. Amy ground her teeth, searching her manacles for any weakness or gap that would allow her to escape. She knew that, even if she were to escape her bonds, she would be frozen in place and reprimanded even more harshly. But it didn't matter. She needed to do something, anything, to resist what was happening to her. Every second she remained in captivity she was becoming more and more like a possession of these people. She simply had to resist, to fight back, to be herself in the face of each and every new humiliation. If she didn't stay alert for any chance to defy her captors, then she really was their slave.

Amy's hips wriggled as the little device settled inside her, mind wandering over every horrible, shameful possibility of what lay in her future. Her eyes were blind; all that was left was the mind's eye.

Mara tossed a palm-sized remote control up into the air and caught it, hitting a button in the instant it landed. Immediately, the device inside Amy began to expand, thickening and lengthening to fill Amy's vagina completely. She was stretched, not to the point of being uncomfortable, but to the point of being totally, perfectly filled. Amy's hips wiggled again; the feeling wasn't entirely unpleasant.

Mara moved; Amy could sense her moving around, so close to her. What was she planning? Amy shrank back a little, knowing that whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good.

Sander's hands were on her back, pushing her back into the center of her range of movement. Mara's smaller, delicate hands cupped her breast, teasing the nipple to hardness with skilled fingers.

'There we go...' She said slowly, lifting her free hand to clip a solid black nipple clamp onto the erect teat. She repeated the process, and both times Amy yelped in pain but, intelligently, she did not speak.

'Okay, I think I know what happens now, but would you care to explain it anyway?' Sander took a seat on the bed, head cocked to one side.

'It's easy,' Mara began. 'I hit this button, and...'

The device in Amy's cunt began to vibrate powerfully, stimulating the entire length of her tunnel. She cried out in ecstasy, her hips bucking back and forth, humping the air. Mara hit the button again, and the sensations ceased.

'I hit the other button, and...'

The nipple clamps began generating electricity, knocking the breath from Amy's lungs and burning into her chest. Her back arched, and she screamed. Again, the button was pressed.

'And they operate on timers, so...'

First, the vibrator, making Amy moan. Thirty seconds later it shut off. Thirty seconds after that, the clamps started up, again for thirty seconds, before shutting off. 

'It's a simple game, Amy,' Mara said, her face mere inches from the blindfolded captive. 'I'll keep these fun little toys on thirty second cycles. If you can remain completely silent for one hour, then nothing further will happen to you today. If you moan, if you scream, if you make any sound at all, you shall use your mouth and pussy to serve us all night.' Mara's eyes glinted warmly, 'If you speak, just one single word, then Sander will take you in the ass. Maybe I will too, there's plenty of ways for me to accomplish that.'

Amy shrank back to the very edge of her movement range. That had been the one act that she had never allowed. Something about it had just seemed... wrong, somehow. There are certain things that shouldn't go in certain places, she had always thought. She sobbed.

'Oh, already? I haven't even turned the thing on yet!' Mara said. 'Not that it matters. The game isn't actually on yet. But it is now,' Mara threw the switch, and Amy bore the first vibrations stoically, without even a sound. Mara smiled in satisfaction.

'I'm going to take a shower,' Mara yawned. 'Keep an eye on her.'

'Oh, can't I come with you?' Sander said, with just a touch of neediness. He sort of liked the idea of having Mara again.

'No, Sander!' Mara said reproachfully. 'I really need you to be good, right now!' She backed away from him into the bathroom, eyes showing concern. Could it be that she had made a mistake letting him get so intimate? She hadn't realized that sex with her would be so addictive.

She slipped down the small hallway and into the cool tiled bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror. What was going on with him? Eye contact during sex? As a rule of thumb, Mara had found that there were plenty of other places that her lovers looked to during sex, but they rarely held her gaze as long as Sander had.

More to the point, what was wrong with her? Sure, the sex had been amazing, but, well... It had just been a whim, but Mara felt that there were repercussions in the offing. She fucking hated having to stick around for the consequences of her actions...

She shook her head to dislodge the thought. Sander was her employer, nothing more. She stepped into the shower, and started the water running over her, hot almost to the point of scalding. There was still plenty to do.

It would be interesting to see whether Amy could last the hour or not...

To be continued...



Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 06



Author's Note: Hey folks, guess who's back! I don't know, I feel like this instalment took a little longer to finish than the others. Is that the case? Anyway, just a few quick things: One, I'd like to extend a big thank you to all of you who commented or emailed me feedback; I'm making a special effort to reply to each and every email that comes with a reply address, so keep 'em coming, folks. Any criticism or other feedback (encouragement is also good) is entirely welcome, so please do so, or vote if you feel so inclined.

One other thing: On the day Chapter Five went online I came home from college and my girlfriend slapped me over the back of the head and explained in no uncertain terms that the Doctor is actually nine hundred and seven years old, not nine hundred and three. By the tenor of the feedback I've been getting, nobody but her noticed that, but still, my bad. 

It also means that I need to thank my new editor, Isabel, who's taking over my usual self-editing and actually being more insightful than that prior nitpicking comment would suggest. Thanks, babe!

Well, with that out of the way, on with the prose! 

*

Mara leaned against the cool white tiles, feeling the hot water pound against her skin. She smiled, wiggling happily against the wall and closing her eyes. She hadn't realized how tired she was, during all the action of the day. She had been running on a few hours sleep and pure enthusiasm for a few days now. She couldn't keep it up for long, but Mara knew that she could function without sleep for a while, if she really needed to.

Even so, she was supposed to be on vacation. That was sort of the point of the expensive suite and the crazy, adventurous sex. It was why Amy was tied up in the other room taking part in another bizarre sex game. She shrugged to herself, listening to Amy's strident moans and groans through the wall. She could keep going for a while longer. Weariness was nothing a dose of double-coffee couldn't fix.

The water shut off, and Mara stepped out into the bathroom, shaking out her damp hair. She gasped, jerking with fright away from the mirror. Sander's reflection grinned.

'I thought I told you to be good, Sander,' Mara said. 'And I definitely told you to stick with Amy.'

'I can hear her from here,' Sander said. 'She's lost the game, at least in part. I'm kind of hoping that she'll speak...' He shook his head, 'Anyway, I'm wondering why I have to be good? We were having so much fun together...' He stepped forward, leaning in to kiss her. She swayed away from him.

'You're getting attached, Sander. All that staring deeply into my eyes shit. God knows, I'm as up for a fuck as the next person, but in this case the next person is you, and you are supposed to be sticking it to Amy, not giving me the fucking puppy dog eyes while you're sticking it to me.'

'Okay, so I'm interested in you. So shoot me. What would be so bad about the two of us, together?' Sander furrowed his brow. Outside, Amy screamed, although neither of them could tell if it was in pleasure or pain.

Mara cocked an eyebrow and walked slowly to Sander. Her eyes closely inspected every inch of his face, narrowing as they finally met his own gaze.

'Sander, how long have you known me?'

'Eleven years,' He answered quickly, blinking with confusion but unwilling to pull away from her.

'And we've been living together for all of that time. We've worked together, eaten together... You picked me over Shimizu every time we disagreed. We've had sex... I'm wondering just what it is that you want me to do, boss man?'

'What I want you to do? I can think of a few things-'

'I know it's rare, but I'm not joking this time!' She snapped, cutting him off. 'Do you know why I've kept you at arm's length all that time, Sander Hackett? Why I never even tried to jump your bones before today, even when you were the only guy for thousands of miles for eleven years? I'll tell you: It's because you still wake up in the middle of the night calling out for Elsa. You aren't over her, not by a long shot.'

His eyes widened, and he found that his words failed him. To have it quantified like that, expressed in a single sentence... it was something else. Of course Sander had always known; every action he had taken in thirteen years had been guided by his rage and grief at the death of his wife. But all of that had become... a sort of background noise, he supposed. It had become the emotional equivalent of a rattle in the walls; he knew it was there, but he was subconsciously trained to ignore it most of the time.

And all that time, when he had thought himself totally alone in the universe... Mara had been there, hadn't she? The other constant in his life. Eleven years, and not one day off, not ever. Eleven years they had been together, sharing the joy of the work, and he hadn't realized. Even Shimizu had failed him on occasion, but not Mara. Beautiful, antagonistic, wry, adversarial, mercurial Mara... For god's sake, why had she stuck around such a pathetically obsessed shadow of a person?

Still so close, Mara closed her eyes and sighed deeply. She was silent, frozen, for the longest time. When she looked back up at him, she was brimming with energy and humour again, her eyes smiling.

'You see, boss man? You're still stuck in your rut,' She shook her head with mock pity, walking away from him. 'Still in love with a dead woman. But I'm sure you'll get over it eventually... At least, I hope you do. Anything else would be pathetic. Well, anyway, when you do, I'll still be around. I've nothing better to do.'

'Hey...' Sander said weakly.

'Oh, shut up, Sander. We can still have sex, if you want...' She sighed in a put-upon manner. 'Just drop it and come out to play, Hackett.'

He stood, very still, and wondered what had happened to Mara to make her like this. She was truly magnificent, gliding through the world without anything sticking to her. So resilient, so smart, so pretty. She really was a catch, and Sander was beginning to realize that he may have wasted the last thirteen years trapped in his feelings for Elsa.

He didn't regret his campaign against the Doctor. He didn't regret enslaving Amy. The Doctor's second-hand murder was an entirely separate thing. If he hadn't come to Vesperia, Sander would still be in command, still living with Elsa. He still needed his revenge, no matter the personal growth he went through on the way.

Mara Syfte... What an interesting person. Sander followed her, his footsteps almost instinctual. He was vaguely cognizant that he was paying her, but he knew he would follow her wherever she went. He knew that, at the very least, it would be extremely fun.

Mara Syfte. She had asked him not to fall in love with her.

Maybe she shouldn't have put that idea in either of their heads.

Mara took a second to lean against the wall when she left Sander standing in the bathroom. Her brow furrowed and her mouth twisted into a frustrated line. She had just been joking with him, when she told him that a kiss was just a kiss. She had intended to have casual sex with Sander, just to see how it felt. 

But, well... It had been eleven years! Eleven years in close proximity to this man, just the two of them, and the generally absent Shimizu. People developed feelings in less time than that.

Maybe she had gone too far, talking about love. That word... The moment it had been said it had ignited a spark in both of their minds, and now it was there, hanging over their heads.

That word, hanging over their heads like the sword of Damocles. 

That word...

'Argh!' She hissed. 'Fuck it!' They all had more important things to deal with. And Sander had his own issues to deal with before they could even take a run at that word.

She slipped out into the hall, determined to use Amy to take her mind off of those brewing feelings.

Fuckin' feelings...

Mara re-entered the main room, Sander right on her heels. They watched in bemused silence as Amy, still blindfolded and shackled to the ceiling, squealed as the vibrator lodged inside her activated, the buzzing filling the room. Her hips bucked forward, her skin twitching in hypersensitivity. Thirty seconds later the sensations stopped, and thirty seconds after that the clamps attached to her nipples electrified, sending a minor current coursing through her like a white heat. She screamed.

Amy's lightless world had shrunk to consist only of her own aching flesh, the two tormenting toys, and the biting chill of the manacles on her wrists and ankles. Her legs tried to squeeze shut around the spreader bar, and once again failed. The pain and the pleasure were beginning to become indistinct. It was hard to tell where one ended and the other began, not that it mattered anyway; thirty seconds of electricity stretched out into an unbearable eternity when they came as regularly as they did. Thirty seconds of agonizingly strong stimulation was not enough to get off on, but it was enough to keep her hanging on the precipice of orgasm just long enough for the clamps to start up again. To her eternal shame, her pussy began to juice at the mere suggestion that either toy was turning on.

In her blind, shaking, moaning world, Amy sensed that someone was drawing nearer to her. The idea flitted by her that it might not be one of her jailers, and she was torn between the shame of being found in this position and the fleeting hope of rescue. Then the cold, dark reality surrounded her again, and she realized that it must be Mara or Sander returning from wherever the hell they had gone. Her mind desperately edged around her options; how long had it been since the game began? Half an hour? Forty-five minutes? One minute? She had lost track of time, of the cycles of the toys, of everything except the blistering sensations of her body. How much longer could she hold out? 

The clips stopped their abuse of her tender tits, and it seemed like an instant between that and the moment her vagina erupted with heat and moisture. She snapped.

'Sander! Mara! Whoever that is, stop this! I-Ah! I can't take it... Please, I'm begging! Please, please, please!' She shrieked, her voice shrill and rising as the length of her pussy was stimulated by the cold machine. 

Light flooded in as the blindfold was removed. She blinked in the brightness, her eyes wide and desperate for release. Her fingers curled in the shackles, as if reaching for the grinning, naked form that appeared before her.

'Oh, I guess we broke you...' Mara said, sounding a little disappointed. 'You lose big, Amy Pond. How exciting!' She clapped her hands together brightly. 'Especially since it was a photo finish, Amy.' She giggled, pointing to her watch as it lay on the bed. The countdown on it, which Amy assumed Mara had set up before the game began, had only twenty-eight seconds left on the clock. Amy wept openly.

'Hell yeah!' Sander whooped. Amy sank limply against her restraints as the devices were turned off and the vibrator was removed from her body, glistening in a layer of her juices. She knew what was coming; she had lost the game, and she would pay for such a loss with her virgin ass.

'I'm sort of wondering whether we should leave the clamps on her, Mara...' Sander mused. 'Y'know keep her in line?'

Mara laughed, 'Oh, you and I, Sander? Same wavelength. Totally simpatico.'

'That's what I said a minute ago, and you said no,' Sander said blankly.

'If you keep bringing that up, I won't want to play with you anymore, lover boy. Shut your hole, and be patient. Anyway, I still like your idea. Let's leave them on her.'

'No, please!' Amy begged frantically, her nipples so delicate and burning in pain. 'Please, take them off!'

Mara narrowed her eyes, twirling the soaking sex toy idly in her palm, 'Alright, Pond. I'll tell you what: you clean off this dildo, and I'll take 'em of you.'

'Alright, anything!' Amy cried, tears falling down her cheeks.

'With her mouth, I assume?' Sander asked, self-effacingly.

'But of course, sir,' Mara giggled.

Amy tried to muster a protest, but failed. She had been around these two long enough to know that they always got what they wanted from her. She opened her mouth with a shaking, despondent sigh, her tender nipples throbbing. Mara slowly fucked her mouth with the glistening toy, the mixed taste of plastic and her own juices revolting her. She gagged as Mara hit the back of her throat, mercilessly twisting the device before pulling out.

Her tongue worked across the shaft, rapidly clearing the evidence of her own arousal from the toy with a desperate energy; she just needed to get this over with as soon as possible. Her mouth was stretched uncomfortably by the terrible device, her throat rubbed raw by Mara's constant thrusting motions.

'I don't know; clean enough yet?' Mara said, withdrawing the vibrator from Amy's lips with a satisfying pop and showing it to Sander. He rolled his eyes at his partner's teasing, and nodded, wishing to get the show moving again.

Mara was suddenly very close to Amy, her hands stroking her trembling haunches, 'Now, Miss Pond... Are you going to take your punishment like a good little bitch? Or are you going to resist? Frankly, I don't care either way, but you might. See, if you play up, I'll tie you down and personally find a way to make you completely airtight with cock while Sander fucks your ass anyway. You get me?'

'This is insane...' Amy moaned. 'You people are insane!' She screamed madly, screwing her eyes shut and bucking her body against Mara, pushing her away. She had obviously reached her limit.

'My, my...' Mara purred. 'You seem to have us pegged, slut. Quite accurate.'

'I am not a slut!' Amy growled, her voice cracking in despair. It rather ruined the anger she was trying to muster. In truth, she was running on empty. In all her life, she had never had sex like this; so forceful, so possessive. Being raped, over and over, with no thought as to what she was feeling... She couldn't take much more.

'Please! The way you were moaning... I bet you would have begged for cock if you hadn't been afraid of speaking. You're a whore, and you're loving this. Admit it, and we'll let you down.'

Sander stared at Mara. Something had changed in her. She was getting into this bondage game with far more gusto than usual, and that was saying something. Was she trying to forget what had happened in the bathroom? Was she trying to forget that he was interested in her? Or- most likely, if Sander knew her at all- was she trying to get her head back in the game at hand and away from any emotional stuff? Mara never forgot anything, not for long, anyway.

Sander thought it best to go along with what was happening; Mara tended to dictate the schedule anyway, what was the point of fighting her now?

'I won't,' Amy hissed through clenched teeth.

'Oh, alright then,' Mara nodded, all faux-reason. 'That's fine. We'll just hoist you up higher and Sander and I can take it in turns getting all up in your business. I suppose you're right: Who needs mercy when the punishment is so much fun?' 

'Oh, god...' Amy moaned, her voice tiny and weak. 'Alright... I'm a slut. I'm your whore... Happy?'

'Getting there,' Sander sang. 'Keep going.'

'Yeah,' Mara grinned. 'Beg our boy here to fuck your ass. Look into his eyes and beg, whore.'

Amy sobbed, staring into Sander's darkly glinting eyes, 'Please, Sander-'

'Master!' Mara barked.

'Please... M-master,' Amy sobbed again. 'Please fuck my... fuck my ass.'

'Well, it'd be mean to deny her that!' Sander said. 'Let her down, Mara!'

Amy was lowered back down to the floor, and Mara unlocked the cuffs around her wrists. Conspicuously, she left the spreader bar locked to her ankles, making it hard for Amy to hobble over to the bed. Mara pushed her down onto her stomach over the edge of the bed, kicking at the bar to force her knees up and her perfect, creamy ass high into the air.

'And the first round goes to the gentleman,' Mara bowed to Sander, moving away to sit on the edge of the bed, her hand at the small of Amy's back, holding her down. It was easy enough to distract herself, but Sander was like a broken record. He needed something to take his mind off of her. Mara suspected that Amy's tight little butt would do nicely.

'You ever had anything up in there before, Amy dearest?' Sander said, stepping close and running his hand over Amy's smooth butt, eyes filled with lust.

'No!' Amy snapped back, looking over her shoulder. 'Never, you complete and utter bastard!' 

'Well, then... This will be a day of new experiences,' Mara said, drawing out her syllables sensuously. 'It's quite a feeling, the first time.'

'Mara, have I ever told you that you're amazing?' Sander asked.

'Almost constantly.'

'Oh. Well, good.'

'We're burning daylight, here,' Mara gave an impatient gesture. 'Stick it in, Sander.'

He shrugged and stepped up to Amy's backside. He leaned in close, one hand sliding up her thighs to rub between her legs, 'I'll go slow,' He whispered to her. 'I'm not a total sociopath, Amy.'

'Oh, yeah?' She hissed back, her hips moving against his fingers despite her anger. 'You are still raping me, remember?'

'Oh yes,' Sander smiled. 'I remember.' Two fingers slid into her dripping cunt, tearing a moan from his captive. His thumb stroked at her clit, making her shudder in revulsion and unwanted pleasure. Mara nodded approvingly, and Sander smiled.

'You will cum for me, even so,' He breathed, spreading Amy's pert cheeks and pressing the head of his hard dick against her virgin opening. 'Oh, this is going to be fun...' He said, pushing forward, just slightly. Her asshole began to open up around him, and Amy buried her head in the sheets and growled in pain and rage, muffling her complaints in the bed.

Sander pushed in steadily, inch after inch of solid cock disappearing into Amy's behind, until he was completely buried inside her. He exhaled a little groan, savouring the vice-like grip Amy had on his dick. His head tipped to the ceiling.

'Well, this is an interesting sensation...' He mused.

'I'll bet...' Mara thought aloud. 'I've always wondered about, Y'know...'

'The fascination? Or how it feels, from my end?'

'Both,' Mara shrugged, her fingers absently toying with Amy's hair as her hips shifted position to try and assuage the pain in her ass. 'It's kind of weird, don't you think?'

'It's not usually my cup of space-tea either,' Sander grunted, working his way slowly in and out of Amy's tender bottom. 'But it does have its advantages. She's tight as hell back here, although that's hardly surprising.'

'Eh. As long as you're enjoying yourself.'

Amy moaned despairingly. Having this happen to her was bad enough, without the two of them talking so casually, as though she wasn't even there. Like she was just something to be used...

As if the pain wasn't enough to worry about. Her ass felt like it was on fire, but Sander's slow fingering between her legs was making her squirm, each movement bringing a fresh stab of discomfort to mingle with the growing heat inside her. She hated how easily these two could play her like an instrument.

But her hips bucked against the invading fingers as Sander became accustomed to the interior of her backside, and began to move faster. She alternated moaning in pleasure and grunting in pain. To Sander and Mara, each noise was perfect, a symphony distilled into a few seconds of pure sensation. 

As Sander continued to screw Amy, he began to hear things a little differently. In his time with her he had gotten well accustomed to each and every noise she made. Her voice, distorted with lust, was an open book to him. So he caught the subtle changes in the tenor of her screaming very quickly.

The little slut...

'You're enjoying this, aren't you?' Sander said with a laugh. 'You're enjoying me fucking your ass, right?'




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 06



'No!' 

'Yeah? Well, watch this,' Sander plunged forward, his cock in her balls-deep. At the same time, he twitched his fingers inside her cunt, his thumb brushing against her clit. Immediately, Amy arched her back and moaned, long and loud. Her fingers dug into the sheets and her pussy spasmed around his hand as she came, orgasm slamming into her like a bomb blast, shattering her ability to do anything except moan like a whore and grind herself on Sander's cock.

Mara tipped back her head and laughed boisterously at the display. She grabbed Amy's still trembling head and forced her to look back over her shoulder into Sander's eyes.

'Admit it, slut. You just came for him, with his cock buried in your ass and his fingers fucking that sweet pussy of yours. You ground up on him like a two-dollar whore. Say it!'

Amy's eyes clenched shut, tears squeezed out of the corners, 'I came for you, Master,' She said in a soft, timid voice. 'I came, with your cock in my ass and your fingers in my pussy. I...' She sobbed, 'I came like a whore just for you...'

'Wonderful,' Mara sighed wistfully. 'Fill her up, stud.'

'As if you even needed to say so,' Sander groaned, thrusting in as deeply as possible and unloading his balls deep into Amy's anal cavity. She sobbed softly at this final violation, mind roiling with shame and arousal, horrified at what she had just said, but knowing at the very core of her being that it was the truth, and that she hadn't been coerced overmuch into saying it.

'Woo!' Sander whooped, withdrawing from Amy. 'That was fun!'

'You have fun, sweet thing?' Mara patted Amy's head, suddenly all sweetness and light.

Amy just moaned indistinctly. She was done. There was nothing left. Just the edge of exhaustion, and the tiny aftershocks of lust. She couldn't go on; any more and they would snap her in two.

'I guess you're up, Mara,' Sander clapped his hands together and stepped away from the beautiful, limp captive.

'That's right...' Mara said, pursing her lips. 'But I have to admit, I'm kind of at a loss as to what to do...'

'Oh, come on!' Sander laughed, staring at her. 'You? You're at a loss? You don't have some weird little fucking thing stored up for a rainy day?'

'That's not what I said, Sander,' Mara said coldly. 'The expression is "spoiled for choice," I think.'

Amy shuddered, not daring even to move, horrified that they would even think of continuing. Her mind was a grey-edged void of exhaustion; she couldn't even imagine what new torments Mara would devise for her, and how her tender, aching body would react.

'Well, let's just do the first thing that comes to mind,' Sander shrugged.

Mara paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing, 'Black rose.'

Sander tilted his head to one side in confusion, but his face lit up when he finally understood, 'Ah. Got it. Good choice. I'd sort of forgotten where we were for a minute.'

'Well, then it's a good thing you have me,' Mara rolled her eyes and smiled. 'We need clothes. Amy, not so much.'

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

Amy's eyes shifted uncomfortably around the room, her hands attempting unsuccessfully to cover her naked flesh from the hungry gazes of the strangers around her. Mara skipped ahead as they entered a large, open area on the lower levels of Shangri-La. This was one of the many "party floors" that dominated the lower recreational floors; essentially huge centres of distilled, committed hedonism for all the guests to enjoy. 

'I'll get us hooked up!' Mara sang over her shoulder as she flounced her way through the crowd, attracting her own share of attention in a low cut tank-top and denim shorts. However, the crowd seemed to part and shift aside for the luminous presence of the blonde woman, as though it could sense that something was different about her; another hint would have been that she was easily the loudest thing in a room full of loud drunks.

She drummed on the bar energetically as Amy shrunk back from the rest of the world, feeling so completely vulnerable that grabbing hold of Sander actually seemed like a good idea. He looked down in surprise when he felt her take hold of his arm, but felt that only an idiot would refuse the naked woman currently pressing herself against him.

He had to admit, though; there were a lot of terrifying people in this place. Sander felt like he needed some support himself. He stood in the corner as unobtrusively as possible, enjoying Amy's warmth on his arm; she seemed to be clinging to him for safety while simultaneously pulling away from him in fear- Sander had a mental image of these two disparate motions splitting her in two. Mara had allowed her to shower before they left, removing the sweat of her previous exertions and leaving her skin damp and glistening attractively in the low, warm light. Mara attracted Sander's attention with a wave, then motioned to a table in the opposite corner. Sander pulled Amy along.

As they crossed the floor, Amy was brought within arm's length of a number of anonymous degenerates, a number of them took it upon themselves to reach out and touch her. Hands cupped her breasts, stroked down her ass and thighs, fingers slipped into her pussy. She gasped, shrinking away from the intrusive appendages as Sander dragged her forward, apparently unaware of her molestation. A heavyset man reached up and pinched Amy's nipple, causing her to scream and Sander to look over his shoulder, grinning. 

Mara was sitting at the polished table with a bemused expression when they approached, watching as the few patrons nearest Amy reached out to steal one last stroke or fondle of her soft, curvaceous flesh. The frustration in her eyes was wonderful; Mara could see that the only thing stopping the redhead from slapping their hands away was the steely glint of the Command Collar around her neck, a small black rose pendant twisting gently from a clip above her throat.

That pendant was key to Mara's plans for tonight, and she could see a number of people around her changing their own plans in the light of the unassuming piece of jewellery too. It was a signal, an invitation to come and negotiate with her for a little time with Amy. Slave cultures... She loved that they existed.

'That get your motor running, Amy?' Mara smirked. 'All those strange hands on you?'

'No,' Amy said coldly, wrapping her arms around her to cover her chest.

'Hmm, that's interesting,' Mara mused. 'It would have gotten me going. Sit down.' She pointed to a chair opposite her. Sander recognized the gambit immediately, and he laughed, dropping heavily onto a seat against the wall. Amy followed suit, sitting down in a chair that seemed to have been pulled from some other table; it was black, where all the others were white. Her ass wriggled unconsciously against the cool surface beneath her, and her back curved defensively away from the chair as she attempted feebly to cover her nudity. 

Sander rolled his eyes and leaned his head on one arm, 'Just sit normally, Amy...' He sighed, eyes drooping. 'I don't want to have to order you to do it, but I will. And there will be punishment.'

Amy gave a weary growl as her hands fell limply to her sides, her eyes staring daggers at Sander as the eyes of many others stared at her now uncovered curves.

'I went ahead and ordered for us all,' Mara shrugged and sank lower in her seat. 'I figured I knew what you all need.' Her eyes shifted to regard the approaching figure of a scantily clad serving girl, probably the slave of some powerful business partner invested in the Shangri-La tower. She made an approving little cluck in the back of her throat as the soft-curved beauty grew closer and placed a trio of glasses onto the table. Each one contained a large shot of a milky brown liquid that swirled enticingly in the frosted glass.

'Good choice,' Sander said shortly, taking a long swig from his glass. 

'Okay, so what kind of sick aphrodisiac is in this stuff?' Amy spat venomously. 'I'm gonna drink this and turn into some sex-crazed fucktoy, am I?'

'We're all drinking it, Amy,' Sander said, and continued to do so, almost demonstratively.

'That isn't incredibly compelling,' Amy retorted, poking suspiciously at her glass. 'You've done a lot of things that I find pretty fucking despicable, Sander.' Her nose curled in disgust.

'Oh, just drink it, naked Amy!' Mara snapped. 'And get that sour look off your pretty little face. You look much better smiling... or biting your lip and moaning. Now, which of those sounds better to you right now?' The threat was palpable in the air.

Amy dropped her gaze to the table, one hand reaching out to tentatively grip the glass. She was utterly exhausted; the basic level of resistance that she had offered thus far had drained the last of her strength. She felt hollow, like everything good or true about her had been shovelled out of her and replaced with... well, sweat and cum and whatever else it was that Sander and Mara were pumping into her.

'So what is this stuff, really?' Amy sighed, perfectly aware that they could lie to her and she would still drink it. 

'Here they call it Rocket Fuel,' Mara said, taking a sip with a long, drawn-out, hissing sigh. 'I've always just called it double-coffee, but no matter the name, one thing is clear: you don't need to sleep for a day with a cup of this stuff under your belt.'

'Oh, so that's what you're planning!' Amy snarled. 'Going to fuck me all night, are we?'

'Command: Drink the fucking stuff,' Mara said, raising an eyebrow in challenge. 'We can get to the fucking later, don't you think? You should feel lucky that we've been so good to you, Amy. Sander's so gentle, and both of us let you cum. Aren't many masters in here that do both of those consistently.'

Amy's hand raised the glass to her lips, allowing the cool, sweet liquid slide down her throat. Once again, the future surprised her: the stuff tasted like coffee, but the warmth and light that spread further through her wrecked body with every sip was a pleasant shock. Amy felt energy coursing through her, wrapping around her like a warm hug and bringing back something of herself that she had lost during the interminable fucking earlier in the day. She felt like... Herself, again, instead of just a shadow or toy. She felt like a legitimate person once more.

She felt the wonderful, validating rage flow back into her like magma, filling her up, making her skin burn with humiliation. Making her eyes spark into wildfire aggression and hate. Finally, acquiescence would be her state of body again, not her state of mind. God, it felt good to be angry with her captors again!

'See? It's working already,' Mara guffawed, seeing the fight flow back into her slave. 'I like that fire in you, Amy! It makes breaking you down so much more... fun,' She smiled her shark's smile, canine teeth glinting. 

'Fuck you, you crazy blonde bitch!' Amy hissed, opting for direct aggression to reassert that she was, in fact, back in business. 

Mara tilted her head to one side, eyes positively incandescent with delight, 'Ha! Yes, she's back alright! I was getting a little worried that we'd totally shattered her a while ago. Hey, look, Sander! Amy's back!'

'I see that,' Sander said vaguely, eyes roaming speculatively over Amy's body. She stared icily back at him, determined not to give him even an inch. Revitalized, Sander was thinking of some very specific inches that he could give to Amy. Repeatedly.

It was easy to see that the energy drink had done Amy a world of good, as it had for all three of them. In Amy, the change was particularly noticeable; she was lit from within by the old internal fire that had filled her spirit during the early days they had spent together. Her skin glowed with it, pristine and creamy white, with the old exhausted bloodlessness a thing of the past. Her hair, damp and wavy, fell strategically across her chest, covering her breasts and leaving Sander a view of her cleavage. Her lips pouted, blowing him a sarcastic, challenging kiss.

Mara leaned across the table and slid her fingers under the leather collar that Sander had replaced on Amy's neck. She tugged forward, jerking Amy's head down lower and breaking her eye contact with Sander. She pulled Amy close, smothering her in a deep kiss that Amy actively fought against, pressing her lips closed against the intrusion of Mara's tongue. 

'That's right... Fight me, Amy,' Mara breathed in her ear. 'You fight... That's good. But remember who's going to win, alright?' 

Mara's hand slid down Amy's bare skin, between her beasts, over her belly, and between her legs. She slid a finger inside her, deeply within her, and curled it. The message was clear: "I own you."

'Tell me what you're thinking, Amy,' Mara whispered, slowly pushing her finger in and out of Amy.

'I'm thinking of how nice it would be to hit you, Mara,' Amy said, ice tinkling off every syllable.' I'd really rather like that... Uh!' She moaned as Mara twisted her finger over a spot that she knew from experience was especially sensitive.

'Well... It's been a while since I've been the sub... No, better not. Wouldn't want you to get ideas above your status, would we?' Mara removed her hand from between Amy's legs, drawing her fingernails sharply across the soft skin of her inner thigh as she did so. Amy responded with a quick intake of breath. 

There was a panel on this table, the options displayed on which serving as a clear reminder as to the purpose of this place, assuming the myriad downcast and submissive eyes of the slaves in various states of undress weren't enough of a clue. These were meeting places for the rich and debauched. And Amy was sitting in a seat specifically designed for the slaves among the crowd. 

Mara pressed a square on the panel, making it light up, making Amy yelp out loud, making Sander jump in his seat. Making her giggle at the chain reaction.

'What! What's wrong now?' Sander said, looking around him for the source of the disturbance.

'Look down!' Mara laughed roughly, watching as Amy squirmed around on her chair. Sander slid his searching gaze under the table, his eyes widening as he found what he was looking for.

'Oh... That's just... That's not... hygienic...' He said witheringly, shaking his head. 'I didn't know they could do that...'

'Ours can't!' Mara giggled girlishly. 'She's the one in the slave chair, not us.'

Amy's chair had morphed, growing a pair of phallic appendages that plunged into Amy's pussy and ass, effectively pinning her to the chair.

'That is not what that technology was made for,' Sander observed; it had originally been developed for self-repairing combat androids- his company controlled a large slice of that market. 'I hope they wash those at the end of the day...'

'It does other things too,' Mara shrugged, hitting another button that set off a familiar sounding buzzing from Amy's lap, making her shiver and grind her hips against the seat. 'That, for instance.'

'Stop it, Mara!' Amy demanded, the muscles in her belly growing taut as she tried unsuccessfully to pull away.

'No,' Mara said flatly. 'Why on earth should I, slave?'

Try as she might, Amy couldn't suppress the sensations of the dual assault on her nether-regions. The dildos had a fluid life of their own, undulating and pulsing inside her in such a way that they sought out the places in her that would make her squeal and licked across them every few seconds. Her vagina clamped down on the intruding device as she gritted her teeth against the rising, pressurized ecstasy. She couldn't keep the moans, squeals, whimpers and gasps from bubbling up from her constricted throat, each one increasing the impromptu audience, some of the braver ones even leaving their own table to gather around to get a better look.

Amy's hands lashed out, slamming down on the table hard enough to make the now empty glasses jump and clatter loudly. She wanted, more than anything, to fight back, to resist. To wrap her hands around Mara's neck and show her who the real bitch was. But to do so would be to incur the show stopping force of the collar, and the clinical retribution of her cruel masters. To do so would be pointless, and so she would endure this latest torture. She would endure, and always hope that when the Doctor finally tracked her down, he would reconsider his pacifist stance, even if it was an exception just for her.

By this point, many of the assembled audience had noticed the black rose pendant Amy was sporting, and had begun hushed negotiations with Mara for a little private time with the redheaded slave. Sander tried to break into the conversation, protesting that he was the one bankrolling this little operation, but cognizant that, money or no, Mara was the one who had always ran this particular show.

Mara had apparently reached some kind of equilibrium with a group of three lean, tall gentlemen dressed in expensive suits when a fourth broke into the conversation, grinning confidently and exuding an aura of self-assuredness that set Sander's teeth on edge. He hated it when people were confident in themselves; it was a trait that always slid over into obnoxiousness, it could never stay at appropriate levels.

'So, what's your price, little lady?' The confident fourth said, leaning down to kiss Mara's hand. What an asshole. 

'There's no price, guy,' Mara said, tilting her head in a mixture of confusion and amusement. 'Just be gentle with her. No permanent damage or bruising. Mouth and pussy only, not the ass, and nothing overly gross, understand?'

The fourth glanced at the squirming, gasping Amy, and shook his head, 'Her? No. She's appealing, certainly, but I was talking about you.' He pointed at Mara, 'How much for you?'

Mara opened her mouth to speak, but Sander stood, noticing that she didn't look nearly angry enough for what this newcomer had just implied, 'Listen, dude. She's not for sale. She's with me.'

The fourth looked over his shoulder at Sander, and snorted derisively, 'Who's talking to you, buddy? I believe I was speaking to the woman.'

Sander placed a hand on the table, 'Yes. And now you're talking to me. I admit, it's not a situation I'm happy about either, and I hope it will be over soon, but here we are. So let's get this over with quickly so you can go about doing... whatever it is you do, and I can do something interesting with my time. Mara is not for sale. Go away.'

'Sander-' Mara began.

'You're a talky little man, aren't you?' The fourth said, drawing himself up to his full height. 'But I'm still not talking to you. Just let me finish my negotiations so that the two of us,' He laid a hand possessively on Mara's shoulder, 'can be on our way.'

'Oh, wait,' Mara said. 'You really do think I'm a prostitute? Alright, Sander: Get him.' 

'Please,' The fourth scoffed. 'Dressed like that around here? You're just begging for it, girl. I'll bet you-'

The newcomer went over sideways as Sander's fist collided with his jaw with a satisfyingly meaty sound. 'Just because someone is dressed like a whore doesn't mean she literally is one!' Sander growled, slamming his fist into his opposite palm.

'Oh, how romantic!' Mara deadpanned.

'You know what I mean!' Sander huffed with a shrug.

'Do I?' Mara said, throwing her hands wide. 'Do you know what you mean?'

'Sort of!' Sander exclaimed, turning to his prostrate foe, 'Now, go away. You're beginning to bore me.'

The fourth picked himself up and backed off, complaining the whole way. Mara stood and walked around the table to hug Sander.

'My hero!' She exclaimed in a shrill, girlish voice, acid sarcasm practically dripping from every word. She kissed him on the cheek, then grabbed him by the collar and began leading him away.

'Hey, what's up?' Sander asked, looking back at Amy as she was lifted from the chair and placed on her back on the now cleared table.




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 06



'Fuck. Now.' Mara answered without looking back. She had no reason to worry about leaving Amy alone with them. Unlike the fourth man, the three she had engaged for this task were scrupulous about the whole agreement. Besides, there were security drones around the place that had witnessed the agreement being made; Amy was registered to her and Sander, if anything happened to her those drones would step in and stop it. As for Amy herself, Mara had issued an order for compliance within reason to the rich gentlemen. She would be just fine, although Mara wondered whether they would be able to make her enjoy it like she and Sander could.

The pair of them disappeared into the men's room. Sometimes Mara liked the classic settings. The door slammed closed behind them.

Amy watched as, for the first time in a long time, she was separated from her captors. Part of her crowed; this was her first chance to escape in forever! 

The elation only lasted a matter of seconds before cold, painful reality closed in once more; even if she was free of Sander and Mara, that just meant that she had been left alone with a group of strangers on an alien world thousands of miles from an earth that would be completely unrecognizable even if she found some way to get there.

Nevertheless, she tried to wrench her body into movement, the thought of escape too valuable not to act upon it. But her limbs wouldn't move, that cursed collar feeling cold around her neck. She gritted her teeth as she was lifted bodily onto the cool unyielding table, a pair of surprisingly gentle hands snaking between her thighs to guide her legs apart. Amy looked around; found that she was surrounded on all sides by an audience of unmoving men and women, all eyes glued on her and the three men above her.

These people knew when free entertainment was in the offing, that was for sure...

The man who had hold of her thighs regarded Amy with coolly clinical interest, noting every peak and valley of her delicious body. He smiled a gentleman's smile and stroked a hand down Amy's belly, her muscles quivering at his touch.

'You just lay back, young lady,' He said, and for the first time Amy realized that he was old enough to be her father- although he certainly took far better care of himself than that. 'Lay back and enjoy.'

Amy shook her head and raised herself up onto her elbows, 'No, wait-' She was silenced by a finger on her lips.

'No,' Said a much younger man, roughly her own age, that stood above her head, 'You don't get to talk.' His voice was soft, but firm enough that Amy knew no opposition could be tendered. Besides, the collar was working to their voices, in a limited capacity. Amy felt her tongue grow soft and pliant in her mouth; she would be speechless until their engagement was concluded. She did note the shape of the order didn't disallow other kinds of noises; these people were almost as proficient with the Command Collar as Sander was.

The third man was staying quiet, which Amy found distinctly unsettling. There was something in him; in the way he stood with his back curving over her, the way his fringe fell to cover his eyes, his brittle, overly sharp smile.

'Oh, don't worry about him,' Said the older man, seemingly reading her thoughts. 'He's a gentle soul, really. Just a little quiet.'

'Can we get down to business?' Said the younger man impatiently.

'Ah, yes,' Said the older man. 'That.' 

The hand that had come to rest on Amy's pelvis moved down further to caress between her legs. His fingers came up glistening, coated in the dew of her previous arousal.

'I must say, your mistress has a very enticing sales pitch,' The older man said approvingly, his damp hand plunging between her legs. 'Not to mention, she does know how to prepare a slave for the deed...' 

Amy moaned as his experienced fingers moved inside her, as the younger man stroked his hand through her luxuriously thick hair, as the silent man kneaded her breasts. Every sound she made was tinged in a mix of lust and tantalizing despair as she realized that, even free of Sander and Mara, she was still entirely within their power, even to the point where she would be fucked by three strangers.

The older man saw no need to delay any further; the girl was already dripping wet and her hips ground against his hand with every forward thrust. He extended a single finger from his free hand, poking Amy in the chest and lowering her back down onto her back. Her head drooped to one side, refusing to meet his gaze as she heard a zipper drop. In moments she felt the unfamiliar cock prodding against her pussy, finding entry into her slick tunnel.

He set up a gentle pace, slowly screwing Amy in such a way that his cock rubbed with increasing friction against her sensitive walls. Even looking away from this sight, Amy began a series of deep, pleasured, tortured sobs as the heat built into a heavy ball in the pit of her stomach. 

Then another zipper descended, and Amy felt a firm hand grab hold of her own and lift it. The silent man, having obviously drawn the short straw, wrapped her long, delicate fingers around his throbbing erection and directed her to stroke him. Amy wanted nothing more than to refuse, a look of revulsion flitting across her face, but she knew that a single word from any of these newcomers would make it happen regardless of what she wanted. She sniffled, her fingers travelling the length of his shaft.

In the back of her mind, she knew what was coming even before it did. The younger man shifted position, guiding Amy's head around so that she was staring down the eye of a third tumescent phallus. She whined at what she was now expected to do, her eyes closing, tears squeezed from the corners. With one cock already lodged deep within her and bringing her closer and closer to a thunderous climax, and with another stroked to hardness by her own hand, Amy knew there was no point in arguing. Things had already progressed beyond the point of no return. Sobbing, her lips parted.

The younger man rubbed the head of his cock across her cheek and down over her chin, the sheer heat and heft of it causing Amy's skin to crawl with distaste. He grinned, pressing the tip into her mouth and against her tongue, forcing it down to the floor of her mouth. He savoured the soft, wet texture of the muscle as it rippled and tensed against his member, and the look of disgust in the slave's eyes as the taste of him filled her mouth.

Amy's nose filled with the scent of sweat and expensive soap as the hard, hot piece of meat filled her mouth and her face was brought closer and closer to the younger man's crotch. His hand was on the back of her head, preventing her escape as his hips pushed slowly forward toward Amy's sweet, fuckable mouth.

God this bitch is hot, he thought, enjoying the sensation of Amy's feather-soft lips wrapped around his dick. He slid his full length into her mouth, making her gag and try to pull away. He savoured the vibrations caused by her muffled protests, pushing in as deeply as possible and staying there, the tip of his cock lodged in her throat.

The older man groaned and thrust forward into Amy's increasingly heated cunt, starting a chain reaction where Amy slid forward over the table, forcing the younger man's cock further down her throat. She coughed violently and pulled away, but the younger man increased the pressure on the back of her head, stopping her from completely removing his prick from her mouth. It rested on her tongue, her lips forming a slack seal around it.

'Now, don't you stop, slave,' The younger man said in a hoarse voice. 'Don't you stop.'

He slid deeper, directing Amy to bob her head on his achingly hard meat. She found herself at the centre of a chaotic, fucking mass; one cock now pounding her pussy, one forcing its way down her throat, another with her hand wrapped around it, and the constant pressure of the staring audience leaning in closer to get a better look at her tormented flesh. Fresh tears began to flow as she the reality of her situation really began to sink in.

She whimpered around the knob in her mouth, pleasure racing up her spine despite herself. The older man was incredibly skilled at what he was doing, his cock rubbing deep inside her. He began a slow fingering motion over her engorged, needy clit, making every muscle in her body convulse and shudder with desire. Amy's mind flowed with pleasure and confusion, knowing that she should be horrified that she was being raped by three strangers, but unable to deny the storm of heat growing in her belly.

Oh no, Amy thought, please no...

Her pussy clamped down around the cock lodged in it, her legs wrapped around the older man's waist and she screamed around the dick in her mouth as her back arched in orgasm. Her juices spilled freely as she came, her legs shaking and her breasts jiggling. She closed her eyes, ashamed, as the crowd erupted into applause at her thunderous, screaming climax.

The older man grunted as the slave's vagina pulsed and spasmed around his cock, tipping him over the edge into his own orgasm. Amy sobbed at each pulsing thrust, feeling him fill her up with shot after shot of hot cum. 

Seconds later, she felt the first blast of salty cum on her tongue as the younger man finished up. Perhaps feeling that Amy hadn't been humiliated enough, or perhaps just playing up for the crowd, the younger man slipped his cock from her mouth and aimed, shooting his load all over her face. Amy flinched, moaning in despair at each shot that coated her face. Her hand clenched on the silent man's dick, pushing him over the edge too.

He gripped her wrist and aimed his cock so that he came over her tits, her chest covered in his sticky load. All three men withdrew, the younger man wiping his dick clean in Amy's hair. Amy lay still, panting and sobbing, crying and covered in cum. She tried to yell something, but found that she still wasn't able to speak. A tiny, despairing noise escaped her throat.

'Woo!' Came Mara's voice from the back of the crowd. 'That's what I call a show!'

She slipped to the fore, dragging a dazed looking Sander by the hand. She peered closely at the thoroughly messed up Amy, her neck craning to inspect her from multiple angles. 

'So, how was that, Amy?' Mara grinned. 'Seemed as though you liked that, the way you were screaming.'

'Fuck you!' Amy panted, the anger glinting in her eyes rendered meaningless by her cum-coated face.

A towel landed in her lap, and she heard a voice retreating from the room, 'There you are, young lady!' It was the older man. 'Thank you, that was wonderful!'

'C'mon, this place is beginning to bore me,' Mara sighed as Amy began desperately wiping herself off. Her furious eyes filled with tears, a hoarse growl escaped her throat, and she pivoted on the table, launching herself at Mara with hands extended.

'Command: Freeze!' Sander shouted, one hand outstretched. Amy stopped, practically in midair, and crumpled to the ground with a sound of animal frustration. Her hands shook; she didn't know why she had just done that. She had just... snapped. But she had failed, and now she would have to accept whatever punishment these two felt was necessary. 

Sander knelt beside her, took hold of her chin and lifted her face so he could look her in the eyes. He gave her an incredulous look.

'That was ill-advised,' He said. 'I wouldn't go making a repeat performance of that.'

'I guess we'll have to punish her. What a pain,' Mara grinned. 'For her, I mean.'

'Alright, Mara. No need to belabour a point. Let's go.' Sander stood, gripping Amy's hand and pulling her to her feet. 'Command: Don't attack either of us ever again.' He shook his head in vague disappointment; he had thought her smarter than that.

As the three of the reached the exit, Mara turned back into the room, waving to the still-transfixed crowd, 'Okay guys!' She said brightly, 'We're off to punish our slave! Wish us luck!'

The crowd cheered, energized by Mara's... whatever that was. Sander shook his head again, but found himself unable to suppress a grin. He didn't know what the immediate future held, for any of them. 

But that look in Mara's eyes, that indefinable twinkle... She had something in mind. And with the naked Amy gripped tightly in one hand and Mara skipping down the hall ahead of them, one thought achieved dominance in Sander's mind.

This was going to be all kinds of fun.

To be continued...



Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 07



Author's Note: Hi, fellows! How are we all? Sorry, it's been a little longer between drinks this time, and that's because this chapter was kind of hard to pitch right. Still, two weeks isn't so bad, yes?

Thanks goes to Isabel for her initial editing of this thing. Thanks, Bel!

Thanks also simply must go to Allyourbase, an excellent writer whose insightful and interesting commentary on the series as a whole and this chapter in particular was invaluable for shaping the story going forward. Couldn't have done it this well without ya, my friend. Thank you.

Well, anyway; Comments, votes and feedback are all appreciated. Hope y'all enjoy the story!

 

Sander awoke with a jerk, almost knocking Mara's head from its perch on his shoulder. He screwed his eyes shut against the daylight that flooded the room; the clouds had covered the window opposite him, transforming the sunlight into sinister grey illumination. The room was painted in dark shadows and monochromatic twilight. How appropriate.

It didn't take Sander long to remember why it was that he and Mara were sleeping in the corner; the bed was... ruined. Both hands swept up to his hair as he sighed and leaned his head against the wall. His eyes slid to Mara's still sleeping form, regarding her with a surge of conflicting emotion. He doubted that he would ever see her the same way again, after last night. What had happened to her? What had happened to him?

The single image, burned into his mind: Mara in the moonlight. Turning toward him, every contour of her body wreathed in grey light. Her eyes, so blue, burning like the hearts of stars...

His fingers tightened in his hair unconsciously, making him wince. Shit...

She looked so peaceful with those fiery eyes closed, a tiny smile tightening her lips. Unbidden, he reached out and stroked her cheek, his eyes narrowing as the rational part of his mind struggled in vain to figure her out. Had she been holding all that back from him? It was like a different person had taken up residence in Mara's body. She had been a storm, sweeping up everything around her without a second thought.

Her eyes flicked open, ice blue gaze on his own; he actually pulled away, just slightly. Her smile broadened, 'Hmm. I was having such a nice dream...' She said quietly.

Sander turned his head away, 'Was I in it?'

'No. Someone far more attractive was, boss,' She grinned wolfishly as she said the last word, stressing it with teasing, malicious irony. She stretched, long legs sliding languorously across the cool floor. She took Sander's hand in her own, holding it against her face, 'Aww, how sweet...'

'Okay!' Sander murmured, standing quickly. He stretched a few kinks from his back and walked into the kitchen, his gaze never returning to Mara.

'Hey, did I scare you last night or something?' Mara yawned, sliding lower down the wall.

'A little,' Sander understated. She was still a little scary, having apparently switched back to normal Mara sometime during the morning. What was worse was that Sander had enjoyed himself last night, far more than he wished to admit.

He shook his head to dislodge the though. Hell, he had crossed all kinds of lines in the last several days, what was one more? His eyes moved inexorably to Amy, still sleeping on the floor, curled up with her back to Mara. He was in no doubt: That one line had meant a lot to her, he was sure. How could it not?

Mara stood finally, crossed the floor in a few long strides. Her hands reached up, entwined themselves in Sander's hair, pulled him down and pressed her lips against his. Sander's mind drifted back; She'd been acting like that for a while now. She had kissed him in the moonlight, pressing him against the wall, pressing herself against him. It wasn't attraction to him, specifically, that was making her act this way, just a kind of vague, powerful feeling that welled up in her. He knew it was there; this close, it was like she was passing it to him. He had felt, in the heat of the night, the undirected anger edging her every movement.

Yes, that was it; Amy should never have tried to attack her. It had made Mara angry, genuinely angry. That must have been a new feeling for her. Sander didn't think that there was much in Mara's life to make her angry.

Sander's reminiscence faded as Mara pulled away, her eyes searching his, 'Are you alright? You seem off, somehow,' she said, her dangerous, deep eyes narrowing slightly. 

'I'm fine,' He sighed, closing his own eyes. 'Are you? What the hell was that whole deal last night? That came out of nowhere!'

Mara smiled again, her expression bright and amused, 'Really? Really, Sander? There's nothing in our past interactions to indicate that I was capable of all that?' She turned with a laugh, and her expression turned dark, 'Maybe she'll learn to watch her fuckin' manners, next time.'

'There's such a thing as excess, Mara.'

She paused, 'Not with me there isn't,' She growled.

'Change the subject,' Sander said quietly, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

'So, how long do we have this place for anyway?' She turned back to him and leaned against the counter, her features having completely shifted gear back to happiness. 

'We need to be out by tonight,' He said, cracking open the fridge. 'I guess these rooms are always booked up. Anyway, that doesn't necessarily mean we have to leave Theros yet.'

'Do you have any ideas, Sander?'

'A couple,' He shrugged. 'There are specialists we can see, Y'know, if we want to end our vacation with a bang. Possibly more than one,' He grinned, but it felt weak. Something in him wouldn't let go of the new Mara, some undeniable attraction. Like a moth to a flame, though...

'Oh, do go on, Mr. Hackett,' Mara said. 'And get me something liquid out of that thing, yeah? I suddenly find myself parched.'

Sander threw a bottle over his shoulder without reading the label. It wasn't like it mattered; everything had some florid and vaguely unsettling name anyway, 'See for yourself; it's all in the system index.'

Mara looked surprised, as though this thought hadn't occurred to her yet, and rushed off to the large screen mounted on the wall. The room lit up with an electronic glow, and soon Mara began making little impressed noises. Sander smiled; anything to get her mind off punishment.

He stared. She seemed so... what was the word? Not innocent, never innocent...

She seemed so... Mara now, just like usual. The same Mara he had lived with for eleven years. But she wasn't, not anymore. His mind kept slipping back...

 

Mara in the moonlight. The thin, slicing sound of the crop scything through the air. Amy screams. Again. Jerks in her restraints. Another red welt on pale skin, virulent in the dim light. That one will leave a bruise.

'Mara, enough!' Male voice. His? It sounds alien, constricted somehow. Unfamiliar.

'Don't interfere!' Her voice fills the air, fills the entire available space, like she's beating the room with a crowbar. Those eyes, Mara's eyes, turn to him, incandescent with rage and, below it all, barely visible, joy. Glee. One hand plays across the bare skin of her hip, fingers one minute stroking, the next taut and clawing.

'I know exactly how far to go...'

 

Did it even matter? That she had done that? After everything Sander had done, was this even worth dwelling on? 

Yes... Yes it was. That had been the Mara that Sander had always assumed was hiding deep down within her; he had seen it once before, when someone from her past had approached her while they had been acquiring parts for a machine. He hadn't heard what they had talked about, but he had definitely seen her break his arm like it was glass.

She had always been one to watch. A person as mercurial as she was, it was inevitable that she was holding something darker in check. But that was something they shared. If Sander wanted to compare sicknesses, he was probably in the wrong place to do it. He just... Needed to be careful around Mara in the future. Yes.

Besides, he had joined her, in the end. He had participated. She had been in the driver's seat, of course she had, but he had helped. Something in her darkness was infectious, and she had passed it to him effortlessly. When she ordered him to do something, he had done it. When she had praised him, joked with him, she had lit up his world...

Like a moth to a fucking flame...

Amy was stirring, waking to the sounds of life resuming its normal pace. She winced as her eyes opened, gingerly lifting herself into a sitting position. Sander couldn't imagine how she was feeling, but the dark, defiant look in her eyes was a big hint. There was a strangled, desperate edge to her expression that she was trying unsuccessfully to hide behind her anger. Simultaneously, both broke eye contact and turned their heads elsewhere. Sander felt vaguely awkward around her after last night...

 

'Sander... Come here,' Her voice like iron. Impossible to resist. He moved. Of course he did.

'What is it?' His voice again, trepidation layered over a deep core of fascination. Something in her was calling to him...

Amy had fallen limp in her chains, head low, long gasping sobs torn from her heaving chest. Mara reached over, lifted her chin with a firm, unyielding grip. Amy's eyes were frantic, fearful. Tears streamed down her flustered red face. Her lower lip trembled.

'She wants it, Sander. You simply must not deny her that,' She toyed with the crop in her free hand. It seemed like an idle gesture, but her eyes burned into Amy's and said otherwise, 'Tell him, slave.'

Amy shuddered. Her mouth opened. Words came pouring out; her voice shaking, cracking, high and reedy. She gabbled rapidly, stammering and tripping over her words. Her voice rose higher, almost a scream of fear.

Begging, desperately.

 

'Try the 08 directory,' Sander pushed the memory down and walked over to Mara and pointing at an as yet unexplored quadrant of the screen. 'I think that's where I saw it.'

'Saw what?'

'Just look,' Sander poked her playfully. Mara switched the directory, and her brow arched with amusement. This was a Mara that Sander knew how to deal with. He began to feel a little more balanced around her.

'Yeah, that'll do it. But I've read about these guys, it's not exactly a place that you can just walk into, Sander.' 

Sander nodded, and produced a small screen of his own with a magnetic strip running down one side, 'Sure, but this is my bank balance.' He thumbed a portion of the screen and showed the resulting number to Mara, who gasped and backed away.

'Are there even that many zeroes in the world?' She breathed, slightly horrified that one man could have such wealth.

'You bet!' Sander grinned. 'Most of it's appropriated from Hackett Industries funds, but since that's all me anyway, I figure it's okay.'

'Alright, that's cool,' Mara crossed her arms and frowned. 'It's all okay for you, Mr. Fuckin' Moneybags. Rich folk...' She mumbled.

'It's all trickle down, Mara,' Sander said. 'Since I'm paying for all your shit too. Now, you want to go do this thing or not?'

Mara closed her eyes, 'Good god yes.' She said emphatically.

'Then let's do it,' Sander said, clapping his hands together. 

'Right on!' Mara pumped a fist into the air, standing up. Sander didn't need any more reminding, but he was still stunned at how good Mara looked naked. There was something about her utter lack of modesty that was so alluring, even against conventional logic. 

'Amy!' Mara clicked her fingers, making the redhead stiffen anxiously and turn her head with a shaky nod. The evidence of her punishment was still present, on her thighs, her bottom, her back, even her neck and stomach. Every movement sent new aches and pains flowing through Amy's body, and she moved gingerly, stretching each muscle experimentally, gritting her teeth with the pain. Mara laid a hand on top of Amy's head and petted her gently.

'Hey now...' Mara said. 'You're flinching away from little old me?' 

Sander searched her face, and found not a single trace of irony. He found himself smiling despite himself, looking into Mara's crystal clear eyes.

'You go and get dressed, kiddo. We've got places to be, right Sander?'

Sander sighed and closed his eyes, 'Sure, Mara. Whatever you say...'

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

 

 

'So, where are we going this time?' Amy sighed, staring dispassionately out of the window. She was finding it hard to look at either of them. Outside, an endless expanse of ocean stretched to the horizon, with not a wave or sign of life to disrupt its perfect, mirror-like surface. Theros had no surface winds to disturb the pristine water, nothing to generate waves and no moon to affect tides. If the planet wasn't blanketed with ice-clouds, much of the surface would have looked like a giant mirror, reflecting the stars beyond. The view from the shuttle was so desolate, almost like purgatory.

'Someplace special,' Mara evaded, leaning back in her seat.

'Well... Doesn't that just inspire confidence,' Amy muttered darkly.

'You ever met an alien that hadn't tried to kill you, Amy?' Sander offered the olive branch.

Amy's head cocked to one side, thought for a moment. She frowned with dissatisfaction, 'Now that you mention it, no. Aside from the Doctor, I suppose,' She almost physically winced at the pang of sadness that welled up merely from mentioning his name. She wondered if she would ever see him again.

'Well, today that changes,' Mara grinned wickedly. 'I guarantee you; the aliens we're going to see will not try to murder you.'

'Well, that's good to know,' Amy narrowed her eyes. 'What are they going to do instead? Sander's paying a lot of money for this, right?'

'Tell me about it...' Sander muttered.

'It's going to be interesting, Amy,' Mara said lightly. 'I hope you're ready for some intense fun.'

Sander shuddered. That sounded familiar...

 

Strong hands wound through Amy's hair, keeping her aloft when the rest of her body wanted to fall to the floor. Leather cuffs still on her wrists and ankles. Mara's shoulders shook with soundless laughter, her eyes mercifully closed, her head tilted to the ceiling. 

Amy whimpered, her own shoulders shaking, though she was afraid. Mara turned, attracted to the sound. She lifted the crop under Amy's chin, forcing her head up to look at her.

'Aren't you having fun, slave? Sander, this is fun, right?' Her voice was low, almost vicious. Those wildfire eyes drew Sander in like a black hole; filled with such utter, inescapable darkness. A shiver went down his spine as her gaze turned to him. He felt like a small animal in the gaze of a tigress.

'Yes Mara,' He said, somewhat quickly. Exhaustion weighed him down. Mara was demanding, and cum was dripping down Amy's thigh. He had already done so much; unquestioningly, willingly. Eagerly. What was happening here?

'The consensus is that this is fun, slave,' Mara said, dipping her head to be closer to her victim. 'I suppose I'm not trying hard enough...'

The hand in Amy's hair lifted higher, dragging her up to her feet with a yelp. It was time for the next round to start... 

 

Sander's physical eyes sent a signal to his brain that interrupted the flow of memory, 'Hey, shut up,' Sander motioned to the two women. 'Check it out.'

Amy and Mara craned their necks to see out of Sander's window. Their shuttle was horizontally strafing a large building that floated, motionless, on the surface of the glassy, liquid plain. A huge blue dome extended across much of the platform, but a wooden outer deck ringed the structure, expanding out periodically into metal landing pads. From this altitude, it looked like some enormous artificial flower bud floating on the surface of the water.

'Okay, what is that?' Amy said, nervousness creeping into her voice. Her hands shifted in her lap, toying with the hem of her simple black skirt. A part of her rejoiced at being able to wear clothes in public again, and a larger part was horrified that she had reached the point where she was happy just to be wearing a shirt.

'That is called Nirvana, Amy,' Mara patted her shoulder. 'And from what I've heard, it more than earns that name.'

'So tell me what happens there!' Amy exclaimed in frustration.

Sander rose from his seat, walking unsteadily to the pilot's chair to key in the request for landing priority. Initially hesitant, the Nirvana control room was more than happy to grant Sander permission to land once he showed them the collection of zeroes at the end of his bank statement.

He shot a glance over his shoulder at Mara, and she grinned brightly back at him. Inexorably, his mind slid back yet again; the memories had a kind of gravity that kept drawing him back. Mara winked; she could see the reminiscence in his eyes...

 

Mara laughed, her voice thrumming with deep satisfaction. Other sounds intruded.

Amy's ragged, shaking gasps. And Sander's deep, growling breaths as he speared into her over and over again.

Mara was at his back, the silent pressure of her gaze pushing him onwards. It was impossible to resist.

He knew he should feel bad, using Amy like this. Merely as an instrument for their mutual satisfaction. But Mara had said fuck, and he had asked: How deep? Shameful...

She cried out again, her eyes screwed shut. He was fucking her roughly, probably hurting her, but he didn't care. Part of him was afraid of what Mara would do if he stopped. A far larger, more bestial part was snarling in primal enjoyment.

He felt Mara's hand on his back, fingers twisting through the fabric of his shirt. She leaned up over the fevered pace of his thrusting, nibbling at his ear with a throaty giggle of delight.

'Good boy...' She whispered. 'You're doing well.'

Sander couldn't hold out any longer. With a deep, thunderous rumble he thrust into Amy's tender opening as deeply as possible, cumming hard. He emptied himself in her as Amy was overtaken by huge, wracking sobs. His hands tightened on her waist, fingers pressing painfully into her.

His gaze slipped to Mara. He didn't know why. There was a degree of anxiety and expectation in his eyes. 

Mara's features softened, and she kissed him on the cheek, 'Very good work, Sander dearest,' her voice was slick, seductive. Dripping in sex and violence. 'Excellent.'

He smiled. He didn't know why, but her approval meant something special. Wrapped in exhaustion, he was barely thinking coherently anymore, but her praise tore all that away. He felt light.

Favoured. 

 

Mara twisted in her seat to regard Amy, grinning wickedly, 'Why spoil the surprise?' She said, voice full of ominous bass. Her smile threatened to devour Amy whole.

 

To be continued...



Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 08



Author's Note: Hello again, readers! All still alive out there? That's good...

Anyway, here's the next instalment of Amy, Captured! I'm glad that the cliffhanger from the last chapter seemed to go over so well. Because of that, I was able to post two chapters within a few days of each other. Woo!

Special thanks goes to Isabel for her editing, and to Allyourbase for some truly excellent advice and suggestions. Thanks to the both of you!

Comments, votes and feedback are always appreciated. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

*

The shuttle landed lightly upon the rear landing pad, Mara practically leaping out while they were still in midair. Sander had once heard her remark that her entire life had been one long search for pleasure in all forms; taking this as true, it was hardly surprising that she was excited to be here. The Trine were renowned across the galaxy for their... unique abilities, and there wasn't a living being alive that hadn't harboured some secret thought about visiting with them, provided that they weren't asexual.

The sea air was still and light, seemingly achieving a relaxing ambience without moving at all. The sunlight engulfed them all as soon as they were off the shuttle, creating interesting geometric patterns through the clouds. The pristine sea made it seem as though they were floating on the surface of a colossal mirror.

There was a member of the Nirvana staff there to greet them when they landed. She was a Trine-form, still in the early stages of her life-cycle. All three humans gave a sharp intake of breath; there was something about the alien that was so... alluring.

Trine-forms were humanoid, and this one was typical of the species, meaning that she was entirely unlike anything that Sander, Mara or Amy had ever seen before. Her basic shape was that of a perfectly formed, athletic woman, with several factors hinting at her nonhuman origin. First, her hair was a shimmering, light pink. Her skin was pale almost to the point of translucence, a milky white colour that seemed luminous in the bright sunlight. Her eyes were a deep green, and they came to settle on each of the visitors in turn, regarding them with a speculative gaze that brimmed with energy and eagerness. She was slightly shorter than the three humans, but this was to be expected. As her life-cycle continued she would grow taller, and in later forms travel even further from her humanoid roots. But it was in this shape that the Trine-forms had found their niche in an expansive galaxy, when they discovered that their unique psychic talents had unexpected results on certain species' nervous systems.

'Hello, visitors!' The Trine-form said brightly. 'I am Lysithea, and I shall be your guide for the duration of your stay at Nirvana.'

'Yo,' Mara grinned, raising a hand in greeting. Lysithea nodded in return, then quickly turned to regard Sander.

'I take it that you and your girlfriend-'

'Ha!' Amy cut in.

'-will be the ones partaking of our services today?' Lysithea finished, making a sterling effort not to notice the interruption.

'Sure, the two of us will be partaking,' Mara said smoothly, gesturing to Sander and herself. 'As will our slave. She'll be getting the special deal.'

'Aww...' Amy whined, as the situation turned against her.

'This is unusual, visitors,' Lysithea's head tilted slightly. 'We do not get many requests to service slaves.'

'I'm not a-' Amy began to protest. The collar activated, shutting her mouth for her with a highly frustrated growl.

'Well, lucky for you we're super rich and willing to spread it around,' Mara smiled.

'We?' Sander hissed incredulously.

'Very well,' Lysithea smiled. 'Please, follow me.'

Lysithea led them around the edge of the building. There was a distinctly tropical feel about the deck, as though everything within a certain radius was pineapple flavoured. Sander stretched in the warm embrace of Theros' sun and looked out over the purgatorial water. It was slightly eerie, but undeniably relaxing.

'Check out that view, wow,' Sander grinned. 'Aren't you afraid of getting walk-ins here?'

'Not an issue,' Lysithea said over her shoulder. 'Nirvana changes position daily to avoid being located by the public. The sea is large, and we are protected by what law there is on Theros. We are highly valued here.'

'I can imagine...'

'Oh yes,' Lysithea smiled like an angel, teeth-sharper than the typical human variety- glinted in the sunlight. 'Now, if you would just wait here for a moment, I shall prepare a private room for your use.'

Lysithea disappeared into the interior of Nirvana, leaving the three visitors to look out over the sea. Amy edged away from Sander and Mara, still being careful to remain in their sight. Mara leaned over the railing, gazing out over the crystal clear vista.

'So, will we be partaking of Nirvana together?' Sander joined her, glancing sidelong at the blonde.

'Yes,' Mara drew out the word. She knew what was coming. Sander was nothing if not persistent.

'So, what if-'

'I know where you're going with this, Sander, so you need to hear this. We would probably be a disastrous couple, you know that?'

'All my personal relationships are disastrous,' Sander reminded her.

'Look at the two of us; we're beyond the pale,' Mara laughed. 'We're goddamn insane, Sander! Look at what we're doing!' She gestured to Amy, 'Do you think we could ever be forgiven for this?'

'No, definitely not,' Sander answered quickly, as though he had the answer chambered up and ready to go at a moment's notice.

'Then is it worth it?'

Sander was silent for a long time. He gazed out over the endless ocean, deep in thought. When he finally answered, it was quiet, yet firm.

'I have nothing else.'

Mara pointed at him, eyes liquid and hard to read, 'You just hold onto that thought, Hackett. In the end, you don't have anything but me and your tool over there,' Again she gestured to Amy. 'Once again, let's not test the waters while we're distracted by other things.'

Sander opened his mouth to say something, but Lysithea chose that moment to reappear and usher her guests into a private room overlooking the water. The room was large and dimly lit, and the moment Sander crossed the threshold he shivered.

'Whoa... That doesn't feel good. Ugh...' He swayed on the spot, gritting his teeth.

Mara stuck out her tongue and gagged, eyes screwed shut, 'What the fuck is...'

Amy felt it too, like every cell in her body had suddenly expanded. Every sensation, from the soles of her feet pressing against her shoes to the movement of air over her skin seemed unbearably magnified. She understood why Mara had retched; she could feel the back of her tongue pressing against the roof of her mouth in excruciating detail.

'This room is enclosed in a Neurological Amplification Field,' Lysithea explained evenly. 'What you are experiencing is the magnification of your body's physical sensations. You will adjust to it soon, and the nausea will pass.'

'Honestly? I would fucking hope so!' Mara said unsteadily.

'Just ride it out, Mara...' Sander groaned.

The trio steadied themselves against any available surface to suffer through the sickness. They had become aware of every tiny movement, every little, long-ignored sensation; Sander could actually feel the blood pumping through his veins.

Slowly, the sensations receded, becoming mere background noise once more. Sander still had the sensation that he was floating, and his awareness of his physical body was still amazingly acute, but it was no longer unpleasant. He stood on his own two feet again, marvelling at his newfound ability to feel every crack and depression of the interior of his shoes. Around him, Amy and Mara were doing much the same, moving slowly to experiment with their new sensitivity.

'There you are!' Lysithea nodded approvingly. 'Better already, yes?'

'This is so weird...' Amy said unsteadily, waving a hand in front of her face and feeling the air currents rendered in incredible detail.

'I kind of like it,' Mara said, grinning and feeling each and every muscle in her face move.

'I am glad,' Lysithea said. 'But we should continue to the next step. Are we all aware of how this process works?'

'I am,' Sander nodded, and then gestured to Amy and Mara. 'I doubt that they are.'

'It's true,' Mara nodded sagely. 'I don't have much book learning.'

Lysithea merely smiled inscrutably and gently placed her palm on Sander's forehead; in the throes of Neurological Amplification, he was surprised to learn that her skin was rough, almost like a shark's, and very warm.

'You will learn,' Lysithea glanced at Mara before closing her eyes.

Sander's eyes screwed shut and he shuddered as Lysithea went to work. He felt a humming inside his mind, like an inner radio being tuned. This sound quickly faded away, replaced by a soft tinkling noise that itself faded away to silence. He felt strange, as though something new had been introduced to his mental processes.

'We are connected,' Lysithea said quietly. She tilted her head, just slightly, 'You are a complex man, aren't you? So angry, and sad, all at the same time. And above it all, you are terribly lonely.'

'Stop it!' Sander hissed. 'I'm not paying you to dispense psychological advice, and I'm fine with my mental illness!'

'My apologies,' Lysithea said evenly. 'It is in the nature of the Trine-form to analyse what we discover in the individuals we connect with. Many find it entirely helpful.'

'I do not!' He growled. 'Let's just move on.'

'Very well,' The Trine-form shrugged. 'I shall repeat the process for your companions, and then we can begin the game in earnest.' She smiled that bright, ageless smile.

'Hey, wait a minute,' Mara said. 'What exactly is the "process," huh?'

'The Trine are hive-minded and psychically linked with one another, Y'know, sort of like the Ood?' Sander looked to Lysithea for confirmation. She nodded.

'Strong psychic link, yes. But not like the Ood,' She said, a little snippily. 'We do not need to carry our brains in our hands.'

'Anyway, Trine-forms at this stage in their life-cycle can attune their minds and sympathetic nervous systems to be compatible with another species,' Sander explained. 'In effect, we'll all be linked up when the games start. It's an interesting sensation, but I can't dip into Lysithea's mind like she can into mine, for some reason.' He shot the alien a pointed glance.

'We have become adept at shielding our own thoughts from others, sir. It wouldn't do to have everyone we join with knowing our innermost feelings, especially in this line of work. But do not worry, since you have requested that I no longer read your mind, I shall offer no further intrusion. However, the three of you will be connected to each other in a rudimentary fashion; just emotional states and shared physical experiences, nothing terribly deep.'

'We'll be able to read each other's minds?' Amy said, aghast at the idea. Something about letting her captors into her mind crossed all kinds of lines.

'No. You will share feelings, nothing more. It takes years of training to achieve the level of extrasensory perception that I have, not to mention a natural Trine-form affinity for the craft.'

Lysithea said briskly. 'You will understand the process better once you have become a part of it.'

She stepped up to Mara, pressed her hand to the human's forehead. Again there was the slight shock, the noises in the mind, and finally the sensation of something moving just beyond to edge of Mara's perception. Lysithea stepped away and nodded with satisfaction.

'You are connected, Mara-' Lysithea paused, tilted her head. 'Oh... Well now, Mara. That is interesting...'

The alien's gaze shifted to Sander, searching his face. Her delicate brow furrowed, and she turned back to Mara with a look of compassion, 'He looks so similar! How can you stand to be around him, when he looks like that?'

'Shut up,' Mara said through clenched teeth. 'Just shut up.'

'Oh, Mara...'

'I don't care what you're seeing,' Mara whispered. 'Just shut up. Sander's not... He's not the same. He's not Walker.'

'Very well, Mara,' Lysithea said, slightly sadly. 'I shall withdraw.'

'Fine. Good,' Mara hissed.

Lysithea turned her head, regaining her former composure, 'Just one more now.' She smiled soothingly at Amy, picking up on her nervousness at the situation. She reached up to touch her.

'Wait,' Amy began, backing away.

'Amy...' Sander murmured, tapping his foot impatiently and glaring at her.

Amy made a helpless noise in the back of her throat and dipped her head in submission, opening herself to Lysithea's touch. The Trine-form gently stroked the palm of her hand over Amy's forehead, a gesture of kindness that, much to Amy's chagrin, was actually unexpected to her. She forced herself to reconsider this new world; to remember that there were still beings in the universe that were not hostile to her, even if her experience so far had been to the contrary.

Once she considered this, the idea of having Lysithea read her mind became far more tantalizing; the collar stopped her from speaking, but it couldn't stop her from thinking. She could communicate her predicament to Lysithea, find some way to finally get rescued. Amy smirked to herself, overjoyed with her new plan, and closed her eyes, willing for the connection to come as soon as possible.

When it did, it was a total shock to her system. Sander and Mara had grown up in a universe that was larger than a single world; they had been in contact with psychic beings before. Amy had not, and she was unprepared for the feeling of an alien presence in her mind, strange tendrils of thought prying apart her memories and insinuating themselves into the core of her being. What was experienced as mild noises to the worldlier Sander and Mara was an entirely different prospect for Amy. There were lights in front of her eyes, symphonies in her mind, and cold fingers on her spine. She shuddered, an action that shook her to her core and became audible through the long, shaking exhalation that followed.

'Amy is...' Lysithea paused, her mouth a grim line, her eyes narrowed. She nodded, 'I see. It is certainly a unique situation that the three of you are in.'

Amy whimpered, utter hopelessness filling her again. Was everyone on this planet totally unsympathetic to her plight? It wasn't fair!

'Oh, no little commentary for Amy?' Mara said playfully. 'I figured you would have something to say about her.'

'It is not Nirvana company policy to judge our guests harshly, Mara,' Lysithea said. 'There is very little law on Theros, and much is permissible. In any case, I hope that I can provide satisfactory service regardless of your personal situation. All that is left is to connect the three of you together, although I must warn you: Some of our clients find this next part to be somewhat... intense.'

Lysithea clicked her fingers. Sander and Amy cried out together, hands clutching at their heads. They growled in discomfort through clenched teeth, as Mara stared at the two of them, perplexed.

'What? This is intensity? I don't feel much of anything,' She said, eyebrows arched.

Lysithea smiled, 'Mara, you have an extremely accepting personality. You're having very little trouble integrating your companion's minds into your own. They, on the other hand, are having difficulties accepting a spirit as... vast as yours.'

'Ha!' Mara bounced on the spot. 'Their tiny minds cannot comprehend me!'

'Something like that.'

'Ow!' Sander exclaimed. 'Mara, is that you I'm feeling?'

Mara closed her eyes and searched; in the back of her mind... She could feel a couple of new things. In her mind's eye there were two twisting columns of colour, one deep blue, the other vibrant red. Tiny utterances of sound- thoughts, she supposed- flowed through the twin maelstroms. Of course, that was only her imagination superimposing shape and form over something completely different to anything she had previously experienced.

'Yup, that's me,' She grinned. 'I see you're knocking around in my head too.'

'Y-yeah...' He said unsteadily. 'Could you just calm the fuck down for a second? Y'know, let Amy and I recover? You're thinking too fast.'

'Good lord, is that what that noise is?' Amy quavered. 'I thought I'd had a stroke.'

'Allow me to moderate you all,' Lysithea closed her eyes, pulling the chaos of three minds together down into a manageable form.

'Okay, thank you for that,' Sander exhaled. 'Mara, you think so loudly!'

'Yeah?' Mara challenged. 'Well, your thoughts are way too fucking maudlin, Sander! Lighten up!'

'Oh, calm down you two!' Amy yelled. 'You're hurting my head. Inside and out. And... Actually, Sander's the... The blue one, right?' Amy gestured, as if trying to shape the words. 'Wow, that is serious.'

As much as she hated to admit it, Amy was having lots of fun with her newfound telepathy. It was like having a new toy inside her head. She experimented, dipping into Mara's loud, brash and confident thoughts and finding that focussing on them for too long made her head throb. Pushing herself into Sander's mind had been a mistake; there was something truly horrifying about looking out over a desolate landscape and realizing that what you are seeing is the inside of another person's mind. It wasn't that regular human emotions didn't feature; she could detect amusement and, distressingly for her, lust floating on the surface of his mind. It was just that anything he did think seemed to be held aloft over a deep well of sadness and rage that at times threatened to consume everything around it. There was a part of her that looked over such a mind and empathized, even took pity on him.

Of course, there were plenty of other parts willing to point out why that was wrong. Sander may be a deeply broken man, but that didn't make him any less of a monster. His surface thoughts were proof of that. But she would look at him differently from now on, she was sure.

Experimentally, Sander prodded at the minds of his companions. Mara's mind glowed like a sun, brilliant gold and pulsing with energy, light, movement... everything. She was a tempestuous giant, her every thought possessed of such verve and vitality that it was hard to concentrate on her without developing a headache. Sander was left in no doubt about her limitless potential and frightening intellect. Mara... every aspect of her personality... He could find himself falling for her very, very easily.

He moved his mind on, shifting his focus to Amy. He recoiled, almost physically, at the dark colours floating on the surface of her mind. He tried to convince himself that he was fine with what he had seen, but it was a lie Sander couldn't swallow. She was filled with such deep anguish, such heavy despair and fear and world-burning anger. When she thought of him, Amy was pure hatred. And she was afraid of him. Afraid of Mara. Most of all, afraid that they would kill her when they grew bored with their games.

And behind the oily darkness, nestled deep within her blackest emotions, there was something else. A tiny glimmer of light. Some positive thought about them... What was that?

Sander flipped his gaze to Mara, knowing instinctively that she was feeling all this too. She stared back, matching his concern and growing revulsion with sheer lack of interest. It wasn't surprising that Mara felt that way, but Sander felt somehow worse, being alone with his empathy.

With a great internal struggle, Sander clamped down on his feelings, forced himself to be cold. He had committed to this path long before today. It was far too late to turn back. There was no forgiveness for this. The chill fell over his heart when he remembered Elsa, why he was doing this.




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 08



Mara smiled at him, 'That's the spirit, Sander.' She said supportively.

'Stay out of my mind, Mara,' He replied quietly, shaking his head to dislodge the last of his empathy.

'Yeah, okay.'

'Alright, now that we have reached a state of equilibrium,' Lysithea began. 'Let us move to the game itself. If you would care to disrobe...'

What?' Amy exclaimed, voice filled with frustration and resignation.

'Amy, we're still on Theros. Also, you came here with us. What did you think we were here for, if not to get laid?' Mara said. 'Oh, and also, you get to be tied down.'

'What?'

'But of course!' Lysithea said brightly. 'You shall serve as the nexus point for out convergence today. You must be restrained, if only to keep you from lashing out in the midst of it all and hurting someone. Also, I am led to believe that many of our guests, Sander and Mara included, enjoy the bondage for its own sake.'

'It's true,' Sander nodded, grinning. He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his broad, thinly muscled chest. Behind him, Mara gasped.

'Is this the first time you've turned your back to me, Sander? Where the fuck did you get that scar?' She said with gruff concern, tracing a hand down a mass of pink scar tissue that bloomed across his right shoulder blade.

'It's just a scar.'

'Sander... This is a serious mark you've got here,' Mara said, consciously trying to stop her voice from softening. She tapped the scar, 'Where did you get it?'

Sander looked over his shoulder, eyes flashing in irritation, 'I don't want to talk about it, Mara! Just drop it!' He stepped away from her, ignoring her slight pout and big, liquid eyes. There was a tense moment of silence as Sander stood apart from the group, keeping his back to them and Mara stared at him. To his relief, she shrugged and unzipped the back of her dress. Sander sighed and did the same with his pants; he had been expecting to have to fight her on this. Even so, he could tell that she wasn't done with him yet.

Amy closed her eyes, her entire body carrying her distaste at what she was being asked to do. Slowly, conscious of her utter helplessness, her hands went to the hem of her shirt, lifting it over her head and exposing her perky breasts. Mara led the way with an appreciative wolf-whistle, but even Lysithea clicked her tongue approvingly.

Watching closely, Sander saw Lysithea wince as she inspected Amy's battered body. He knew the alien must have seen into Amy's mind, far deeper than Sander himself had. He knew that she must have seen the events of last night; Sander had seen her fear of Mara so vividly, and he was only getting the tiniest glimpse of her mind. So the momentary expression of shock that flitted across the Trine-form's face was made all the more emphatic when Sander realized that she had been expecting this, and she was still shocked by what she saw. Looking at poor Amy in the daylight, he found it hard to disagree.

The pale skin of Amy's back, ass and thighs played host to numerous fading red marks and a number of deep blue bruises that actually shocked Sander; he had no idea that Mara was that strong. She had promised him that she knew how far to go, and Sander wondered what Amy would look like if his assistant had decided to cross that line. Sander reached out in inexorable, horrid curiosity to gently run a hand over a mark on her hip, but she shuddered away from his touch. Sander offered Amy an apologetic look, and her eyes snarled back at him.

Lysithea went back to professional mode very quickly and, once the three of them were completely divested of clothes, she pressed a panel on the wall. A plate of metal slid away from the centre of the floor and a large bed rose into position. Amy noted with discomfort the ropes hanging from the headboard and the end.

'That seemed unnecessary,' Mara mused. 'I mean, aren't we floating on an ocean?'

'Nirvana is a taller building than many realize,' Lysithea responded. 'We can store many things below the surface. You would be surprised.'

She gestured to Amy, and then to the bed. The redhead tilted her head and whined pathetically, her eyes a picture of sorrow. Mara gave a sparkling, toothy grin.

'Come on, Amy. Lighten up! This is going to be pretty special, from what I've read,' She laughed. 'And just think; you'll be the only person in the whole of Leadworth to have had psychically enhanced sex!'

'Is that supposed to make me feel better?' Amy snarled.

Mara stared, searching Amy for any indication that she was joking, 'Uh, yes it was. How could that not make you feel better? Actually, I don't care. I know something else that'll make you feel really good, but you have to be tied down to start it up. Hurry up, Red.'

Amy was led to the bed, and her wrists were wrapped together above her head. Lysithea's well-practiced hands moored Amy's hands to the headboard, the rough texture of the rope presenting an incredible demand on her delicate senses.

The alien's hands stroked down her legs, her rough skin sending hypersensitive shivers through Amy's body. Her ankles were tied down, her legs spread and her pink, unharmed, eminently enticing pussy on display. She struggled against her bonds, the coarse knots rubbing against her skin, the pressure intensely present in her mind.

'Wow...' Sander said dreamily, staring down at his captive.

'She looks really good all strung up like that...' Mara added speculatively.

'Agreed,' Lysithea nodded. 'Now, shall I start the party?'

'Go for it, alien babe,' Mara shrugged, her legs folding beneath her until she was cross-legged on the floor. Sander took his seat to one side of the bed, affording him a good view of the action.

Amy squirmed as Lysithea drew close, her dark green eyes boring into Amy's, a broad grin splitting her pale features. The beautiful alien bent her head low, nuzzling into Amy's neck. She jerked against her bondage, a sharp cry escaping her throat.

The soft curve of her nose pressed against her neck, her hot breath caressing her skin... Every sensation was magnified to intensity, filling up every inch of her world with its shocking virulence. Sander and Mara pricked up, hands reaching to their own necks. They could feel it too!

Amy felt lips against her cheek, the moist flick of a tongue against her skin making her whimper. This could get rough...

With the opening pleasantries concluded, Lysithea began her sensual assault on the bound captive. Her lips travelled, first to Amy's mouth, her deep, warm kiss quaking through her helpless body in a wave of all-consuming heat. The Trine-form dipped lower, planting blazing kisses on her neck, collarbone... breasts. Her tongue swished around Amy's nipples.

'Oh god!' She gasped, every point of contact seeming to remember the brilliant sensations and to sustain them for several seconds after Lysithea had moved on.

The light patter of heat had passed lower, ever lower, the muscles in her stomach growing tighter as her back arched into Lysithea's fevered kisses, tiny moans escaping her throat at every touch. Beside her, Sander had closed his eyes and lowered his head, every sensation rebounding across the newly formed mental link and hitting him and Mara at full force. What was left of Amy's cogent thought processes wondered what it must feel like to them; at any rate, they seemed to be enjoying themselves.

For her part, Amy tried to feel bad, tried to convince herself that this was still heading towards rape, like every other torturous day on this planet. But every time Lysithea placed another gentle touch on her sensitive skin the thought evaporated like mist, no matter how hard she tried to hold onto it. She was being carried away on a rising tide of fire, and she was powerless to resist.

Lysithea's fingernails were at the insides of Amy's thighs, scratching gently up the delicate skin. Amy's legs spasmed at the lightest touch, her ankles jerking hard against their bonds.

'Ah, such sensitivity...' Lysithea crooned. 'This is going to be fun...'

She dipped her head once more, her tongue darting out to circle Amy's hips, drawing a shuddering gasp from the captive.

'Yes indeed...' The alien said softly, diving between Amy's legs, lapping at her spasming pussy.

Sander and Mara grunted together, the sound drowned out by Amy's sonorous scream, a sound that continued until her breath ran out. Her mouth remained open for several seconds after, silently shrieking in pleasure.

'Wow!' Sander exclaimed, the sympathetic pleasure racing through him in odd ways; he didn't have a matching set of parts for this sensation. 'That's an interesting one!'

'Word!' Mara grunted, throwing him a thumbs up.

Lysithea's tongue flicked at Amy's petalling outer lips, barely even flinching as the human's hips bucked desperately against her. She relished the sweet tasting juices that spilled out onto her tongue, driving her soft muscle as deep as she could into Amy's sopping tunnel. Amy grunted and bit her lip, almost hard enough to draw blood.

Her muscles spasmed against the ropes, drawing her whole body tight as a bowstring, as Lysithea continued exploring deep inside the young redhead. Repeated, endless groans tore themselves from her throat as she arched her back, her breath completely leaving a body that still wanted to scream. Suddenly she realised that, between breathless, animal groans, she was begging. Pleading, over and over for more, her voice cracking with desire. Shame coloured her cheeks as blood pumped to other, highly specific, areas of her body. This was so wrong...

Lysithea was intensely skilled, her warm tongue dancing around Amy's dripping cunt in sweeping arcs. The Trine-form lapped at her vulnerable clit, causing surges of pure, unbearable ecstasy to burn through her like a nuclear blast.

The heat rose higher, swallowing her mind, blasting down every resistant thought, heating every cell in Amy's body white hot. She wasn't fighting a losing battle; she had already lost. The need to cum overwhelmed everything else, increasing the volume and rapidity of her pleading until she was simply gabbling a string of animalistic nonsense sounds. Every muscle in her body was so tight that it hurt... Every sensation was so present in her mind that she was practically blind to Sander's presence beside her, Mara's stifled groans of pleasure... Everything faded out.

Lysithea's tongue circled her burning, sensitive bud, and Amy came. The wave of all-consuming pleasure washed over her, her limbs tensing so hard that the ropes groaned and struggled to keep her contained. Her mouth opened in a wordless, mindless shriek of molten bliss.

Beside her, Sander exhaled explosively, eyes widening as his mind burned. Mara leaned against the side of the bed, her legs trembling and her toes curling. The shared orgasm encircled every nerve in their bodies, singing through them like liquid mercury. It was an alien feeling, at once highly familiar and completely new; a climax of the mind, not the body.

Amy felt herself blacking out as Lysithea kept up the pressure, her senses falling away like sand as her body lit up with a single sensation. And then, as easily at it had overwhelmed her, it was over, leaving her a trembling, gasping mess lying limply in her ropes. Lysithea shifted position, leaning over Amy's recumbent form to kiss her deeply, the taste of her own arousal invading her mouth.

'And now you understand why we need the ropes, yes?' Lysithea smiled peacefully, closing her eyes and sighing, satisfied at a job well done.

'Well, that was-' Sander began breathlessly.

'Shut up, Hackett!' Mara moaned dreamily. 'You're ruining the moment.'

'Yeah... Right...'

Amy gave a tiny moan as an aftershock raced through her, drawing the attention of the other three. Sander gently ran a hand down her shivering body, feeling her soft skin prickle under his touch, not even bothering to move as his hand slipped over a series of particularly dark bruises.

'You can't tell me that you didn't enjoy that, Amy,' He said softly, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead.

'I...' She began, her voice trembling incessantly. She seemed unsure of what to say, of whether any particular sentence would cause her to be punished. 'Oh, god...' She moaned, turning her eyes away from him. Unfortunately, this placed her gaze firmly on Mara's smiling eyes.

'Aww, she's ashamed to admit it,' Mara grinned. 'You don't need to worry, sweet thing; everybody here enjoyed it when you came. That was fun!' She did a little wriggling dance from her seated position.

'It was,' Lysithea nodded. 'But your time isn't up yet. My purpose is merely to get the motor running, so to speak. From here on in, I shall simply maintain the synaptic link. Whatever else you do is entirely up to you. Although I can offer some suggestions: Sander, you may have noticed how different this experience has been from your normal sexual encounters.'

Sander nodded, 'I did notice this, yes. I figured it had something to do with the fact that I was feeling a girl getting off, rather than my usual, Y'know, dick.'

'That's exactly right,' Lysithea said. 'I would ask that you consider the broader implications of this fact.'

Mara cocked her head to one side and smiled, 'Oh! You mean to say that everything we do is entirely transferrable to the other two... So I'd get the male experience of sex if Sander fucked Amy. And so would she? That's fuckin' Meta!'

'I think our path is clear, then!' Sander said, happy with any path that ended in him getting laid. He stood, striking a self-effacingly heroic pose. Lysithea nodded and stepped away, taking up position at the far side of the room and closing her eyes in concentration. Sander got the idea that she considered their interactions finished for the day.

Sander trailed his fingers up the considerable length of Amy's leg, his touch stabbing at her like a knife of pure heat. His digits slid across her hips, finding entrance into the mire of warmth and moisture that was Amy's pussy. She groaned, weakly, as each knuckle pushed inside her, deeply into her core. He pulled out of her, almost as quickly as he had entered, fingers glistening in her dew. His eyes bored into hers, his passive, wry gaze keeping her entranced.

Sander lifted his wet fingers to his mouth and licked. Every open eye in the room widened. Burning across the mental link, the taste of Amy invaded every tastebud in Sander and Mara's mouths, utterly different than any other time. Merely human senses couldn't do this alone, to taste so deeply. Not simply the evidence of Amy's arousal, Sander could taste what seemed like her very essence in her juices; Amy Pond as pure taste. It was a soulful experience.

Mara giggled, rolling her tongue around her mouth with a delighted "Mmm!"

Amy sobbed shamefully as the taste of her own juices swept through her mouth like a flood. This was too much; at the very least her previous torments had been within the scope of her comprehension. Nirvana was completely outside her sphere of experience, and Amy was at a loss as to what would happen next. What she had already been through here had been unbearable... She didn't like the idea of repeating it, no matter the variation.

Sander was circling Amy's prostrate form with slow, predatory movements, enjoying her desperate attempts to curl herself away from him. It was useless, of course it was, but to resist was to exert some form of control, however limited. Amy wouldn't allow herself to simply lie back and accept whatever Sander would give her.

His finger traced the delicate curve of her jaw. He gripped her firmly between thumb and forefinger and forced her to look at him, spearing her with his shining, friendly smile.

'I'm going to need some help here, Amy, before I stick it to you,' He gestured ruefully at his flaccid member. 'As... Uh, stimulating as this place is, it does nothing for me physically. And I fear that Mara and your beautiful self left me rather drained last night. So we circle around once again to... You need to prime the pump, sweetness.'

'No. I can't, Sander... I can't take this...' Amy whimpered, gesturing vaguely at the room around her, as much as the ropes that held her would allow.

Sander's hand left her jaw and wandered to her neck, where a single finger plucked at the Command Collar, ' I could simply force you, Amy. That's no fun, though. I don't want to force you. From the way you were screaming, you can't deny that you enjoyed what Lysithea did to you.' He reached down between her legs, stroking his fingers softly along her sodden pussy, 'Can you imagine what I could do to you?'

Amy trembled as Sanders fingers pushed against her, the heat building itself back in the pit of her stomach. In the moments of lucidity following Lysithea's fiery assault, Amy had thought that she could contain herself, push down the desires that formed unbidden whenever anyone touched her in this room. She realized now that it was useless; right here, in this room, enclosed in the Amplification Field, there was nothing she could do. In the outside world she could keep her wits about her, even if they made her beg, the core of her mind would remain hers.

But in Nirvana, Sander and Mara could do whatever they wanted to her, and worse, she would want it. Lysithea and the Field... They tore at the senses, ripped away any self control Amy might have had, turned her into a moaning wreck. There was nothing she could do...

Three fingers slipped inside her, proving Amy's point handily. She moaned, bucking her hips against Sander's invading digits, her legs tensing and shuddering.

'Just imagine the feeling, Amy... That's why we're here. This is something special,' Sander grinned. 'This is an expensive treat, because Mara and I like you so much...'

'Surely you want to thank Sander, right Amy?' Mara bent her neck backwards over the edge of the bed so that the back of her head rested on Amy's belly. She looked up, over her fringe, to grin at Sander.

'Oh god...' Amy breathed softly, her skin crawling as Sander fingered her. 'Fine, whatever,' She said bitterly, arching her neck in defeat. 'Just stop that...'

'Good girl,' Sander crooned. He stepped forward, positioning himself so that Amy could reach his cock if she craned her neck. She frowned. He wanted her to reach for it, take it in her mouth under her own power. He wasn't going to give her an inch.

Angry tears sprang to her eyes as she stared out balefully from under her mass of fiery hair. Sander had slipped his fingers out of her vagina, leaving her with a frustrating empty feeling. She tried hard to clamp down on the desires swarming through her, finding that she was unable to. Momentarily, her teeth gritted, before she reluctantly opened her mouth and leaned forward. Her tongue gingerly licked at Sander's dick, causing him to groan appreciatively. He closed his eyes, feeling the faint, moist traceries of heat as Amy's soft tongue travelled the length of his cock, each one magnified by the Field.

Beside him, Mara tilted her head to one side and pursed her lips. Sander gave a little laugh; Mara was having trouble figuring out the psychic link. He himself was trying his hardest to block out the sensory input from Amy's mouth- He didn't think he needed to feel his own dick. He was already attached to it. Thankfully, it seemed to be working; he'd never been so happy that his father had made him take psychic training when he was younger.

Both girls straightened up as Sander reached full hardness under Amy's frustrated ministrations.

'Hmm! Interesting!' Mara squeaked, feeling unsettled. It had been odd enough for Sander, feeling something that didn't exist. Mara and Amy were suddenly having to deal with a new appendage psychically making itself known all of a sudden. It felt strange to feel what wasn't there, like a phantom limb.




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 08



Sander slid forward, pushing himself into Amy's mouth, making a special point to clamp down harder on the mental link, blocking this specific sensation from his own body. Amy whimpered around him, the vibrations twanging through him like the breaking string of a violin. For a moment, he stood still, enjoying the warmth of her mouth around him. Next to him, Mara's brow creased as the unfamiliar, shared sensation flowed through her.

'Alright, enough,' Sander grunted, stepping away from Amy's prostrate form, relishing the feeling of her sucking lips as he withdrew from her mouth. 'Time for the main event.'

Mara fondled Amy's breasts as Sander moved around her, stepping between her legs and pressing the head of his dick against her wet folds. Amy whimpered, shifting her hips uncomfortably. She could feel the heft and heat of him pressed against her rendered in excruciating detail.

This was going to get rough...

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

Rory leaned against the hull of the TARDIS, glaring emptily at the screens on the control panel. On screen, Sander had positioned himself to rape his wife yet again. The Doctor swept around the control panel, absorbed in the act of furiously manipulating the TARDIS controls, his eyes glowing with dark energy.

Silence reigned between them. In the beginning Rory had been mad, panicked, furious and desperately afraid. He had followed the Doctor, just a step behind him, as he worked on tracking Amy down. He had been frantically searching for something, anything that he could do to help find her. But attempting to help had only highlighted just how out of his depth Rory was.

Even his random searching on Theros hadn't been very useful; the trail he had picked up had gone cold very quickly.

And through it all, the terrible, taunting footage of Amy's ordeals were forced through every screen on the TARDIS, cruelly devoid of any identifying information.

It made it so hard to think! She was physically absent, but Amy's plight was kept so present in both Rory's and the Doctor's mind as to make Rory physically sick with worry.

Rory screwed his eyes shut as Sander entered Amy, causing her to scream hysterically. A low growl escaped his throat.

'Is there any way to turn that off?' He asked for the millionth time.

The Doctor sighed in frustration, 'Rory, if I wanted to turn it off I would first need to figure out how it's being done. This is a near impregnable living time machine. They shouldn't be able to hack it. That, and there's more important things to worry about, for example-' He waved vaguely at the screens themselves, his other hand working a series of dials.

In truth, the Doctor wished that he could switch off the screens too. In the back of his mind, a tiny part of him was constantly working on that puzzle. If he could just silence the screens... Turn off his friend's nightmare just for an hour or two. To be able to think straight without the heavy mass of guilt and fear and anger that burned in his gut. He would be able to find her, given just a little peace.

Besides... He would never admit it; it would never, ever leave his own mind, but... Each glimpse of Amy's shapely flesh, each scream or moan or squeal, each view of Sander's cock sliding between his companion's lips... It aroused him more than he cared to think about. Every shameful twinge of lust, intermingled with true horror at what was happening to a woman that he had pledged to protect... His twin hearts beat faster.

He had gotten distracted, back on Theros. That black hole of guilt would follow him forever. It had just become too... tense. The lure of the flesh so rarely intruded in on his mind. He had needed to do something about it. Sure, it had only taken a few minutes, but this was hardly the time. He just hoped that Rory never found out; he would probably punch him again.

That Shangri-La public hall, though... Wow.

It didn't help that Rory was constantly glaring at him. The Doctor couldn't help but think that he blamed him for what had happened to Amy. It was true, if he had never met her, she wouldn't be in this situation, but still...

'I can't even tell how they're getting this footage!' The Doctor burst out suddenly, one hand gripping the corner of the panel tightly, 'They only have cameras at their base, and they're definitely not there now! That's the problem with these bloody cowboy types: everything they do is so loose and amateurish that it's hard to figure out!'

'Yes, that must be it,' Rory snapped. 'They haven't stumped you, or anything, That's impossible! No, they're simply so beneath you that you can't even perceive them. Because you're the Doctor, and you never lose.'

'That's exactly right, Rory,' The Doctor turned suddenly. 'And I'd be getting around to winning this one a whole lot faster without you sniping in my ear every few minutes!'

'Well what do you want me to do, Doctor!' Rory yelled, standing suddenly and crossing the distance between them in seconds. He pointed at the screen, 'Look at her, Doctor! She needs our help, and we're no closer to finding her!'

The Doctor averted his eyes, completely unwilling to look at Amy's tied, vulnerable body for any number of reasons. Probably best not to get... distracted again, especially since Rory looked ready to lash out.

The idea hit him suddenly, as they tended to, 'Shut up,' He said, just as suddenly.

'What?' Rory growled.

'No, no, no! Just shut up for a minute...' He closed his eyes, butting his forehead with the palm of his hand. 'I am so bloody thick!'

'What? What is it?'

'Trine-form!' The Doctor burst out. 'How could I have missed it?' He began manipulating the TARDIS controls again with renewed fervour.

'Care to ensure that I don't miss it either?' Rory said quizzically.

'No time! I think I know how to find Amy! We need to move, now!'

To be continued...



Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 09



Author's note: Hello again, folks! It's been a while, huh? Sorry about that...

Well, anyway, here's chapter nine. From here on in I'll probably be posting one chapter a week until the series is over, so keep watching this space.

Special thanks go to Isabel for her proofing and editing, and to Allyourbase for some awesome plot advice that helped me resolve a couple of issues that I didn't even know I had. Thanks, you two!

Anyway, feedback, comments and votes are hugely appreciated. Hope you enjoy the story!

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

'Doctor, what's going on?!'

Rory held on tightly to the central control system as the TARDIS pitched heavily from side to side, switches lighting up seemingly at random. They were moving- as far as that word could be applied to the TARDIS- but Rory had no idea where.

'She's a Trine-form, Rory!' The Doctor shouted back. 'I can't believe I didn't see it immediately!'

'What does that mean?' Rory exclaimed, exasperated.

'Exactly what I said! Sander said it too: the Trine are psychically linked. If we find one, chances are we can find any other one, no matter where they are. So I'm taking us to see some friends of mine, see if I can arrange a meeting with a specialist,' The Doctor smiled for the first time since Amy had disappeared. Finally, some forward progress!

'We're going to get her back, Rory!'

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

Amy whimpered, a combination of humiliation and desire colouring her voice. Sander seemed so tall, standing over her as he was, his eyes roaming her body with intense interest. She had been in this position once before, on the day they had kidnapped her, but she hadn't felt quite so helpless back then. It was the way he leaned over her, so confident and assured. The way the hand he was using to support himself over her brushed against her waist in a possessive manner.

The way his hardness nestled against her vulnerable, glistening folds, ready to invade her whenever he wanted to. Amy didn't think she could stand another fucking, not in Nirvana, not with every sense pushing hungrily for every little touch or sensual pressure on her skin.

Sander closed his eyes as his head tipped toward the ceiling, inhaling deeply. This feeling... he had almost forgotten. It was intoxicating. Regardless of his higher motives, regardless of any empathy for Amy that may have been in him, this was enjoyable on its own merits.

She looked so good, with her hands tied above her head like that...

Sander slid his hips forward, pushing himself between Amy's legs and into her defenceless pussy. He gritted his teeth as Amy cried out, the wave of sensation pulsing through both of them with enough force to weaken his knees and make him lean heavily against the bed. Even Mara whooped with delight and surprise, becoming unsteady on her feet as the mental link delivered Sander's experience to her.

Sander set up a slow pace, pushing himself deeper into Amy and feeling every spasm of her muscles as he did so. The sensation, the pure pleasure and heat rebounded and multiplied by Lysithea's presence was almost transcendent. He slid down, pressing their two bodies together, feeling the heat of her flesh against him. Amy gasped with pleasure.

A curiously heavy feeling filled Sander's mind; by the drooping of Amy's eyelids, he could tell that it was in her too. Something strange was happening, but in the heat of the moment it wasn't possible to question it, or even care enough to want to try. Sander's head dipped, planting a heated kiss on Amy's breast, making her back arch against him.

He could feel her; beneath him, but also in his head. The dark colours and heavy despair of her mind lifted away like a curtain, revealing a throbbing crimson mass of lust beneath, but that was just colour. This close, with this unity of thought, Sander found himself able to see far deeper than he had been able to before.

Sander's eyes flicked up to capture Amy's; he knew immediately that, while he was looking into her, she was doing likewise. It was part curiosity, part an inexorable, unconscious gravity drawing them in, but neither could stop themselves from probing deeper into the other.

'Stop it, damn it!' Amy's voice, hissing silently in his mind. Sander's eyes widened.

'Can't...' The thought went out automatically, before he had a chance to stop it.

'I know,' Amy's mind whimpered back, along with a feeling of intense concern. They were so close together... it was inescapable.

'Relax. Should be fine,' Sander sent out another tendril of thought; dealing with this was hard enough without Amy clogging his mental processes with her fear.

'A-alright...' Her projection was shaky, and Sander got the message that she was nervous. 'Hello...'

Sander gave a tiny, internal chuckle. This close to her, everything fell away. All the anger, all the negativity, dissolved away. Revenge, kidnapping... None of it meant anything when another mind was open to you.

He was nervous, she was nervous, but they both drew closer to each other. They sank closer, doing so physically as they did so mentally. Sander could feel her thoughts, emotions and memories as clearly as though they were his own.

'Sander...' Amy's voice twanged through his head, apprehensive and hesitant. 'What happened to you to make you like this?'

Sander closed his eyes, 'I don't think I can stop you from finding out. I don't know whether this is part of the programme or not.'

He could feel her in his mind, could feel his memories parading past her like a slideshow. He could feel her welling up inside him; the sum total of her life there for the taking. She was looking into him; could he be blamed for doing likewise?

At her core, Amy was remarkably attractive; sweet, good natured, intelligent... Below everything else was a steely resolve that left Sander no doubts about how long she would continue to resist him. Love for Rory, so deep...

In many ways, she was very like Elsa.

Sander winced at the thought; it made him uncomfortable. Amy could feel it, as deeply entrenched in his mind as she was. She shuddered as another memory of thirteen years ago flitted through her, as substantial as mist. Sander had such trauma in his past... It was no wonder he had snapped.

She wondered whether Rory would turn out like that, if he couldn't find her.

Simultaneously, Sander thought the very same.

Both were pulled downwards, further into the other. Memories fell around them now, faster than before. Jumbled, mismatched images from each other's lives. Sander felt his outline begin to blur.

He saw himself, walking the streets of Vesperia, like everything was normal. Beside him, a woman. Elsa. His Elsa... No...

Amy.

'Sander, you are going to deep,' Lysithea's voice clanged through him like the tolling of a bell, shattering the parade of altered memories and sending him spinning back into his own physicality. Once again, he was leaning over Amy, still inside her.

'You were in my memories,' Amy said, out loud and unsteadily. 'Like you'd been plastered over the spot where Rory should have been.'

'You were in mine,' Sander answered quickly. Unexpected warmth flooded through him, a tide of strange, alien affection for the woman beneath him. He leaned down to gently place his mouth over hers; it seemed right. Amy craned her neck, returning the kiss before breaking it with a gasp, nuzzling at Sander's neck as he moved inside her.

'What the fuck is this whole thing here?' Mara deadpanned incredulously, eyebrows arching as Amy sought out Sander's mouth for another deep, smothering kiss.

'I was afraid this might happen,' Mara turned to the motionless Lysithea as the alien's voice spread through her mind. 'It's the main reason we don't get many requests to service slaves. The connection gets stronger through sexual activity. That's what we do here. Sander and Amy... Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that their minds merged, but they did go far deeper into each other than I would normally recommend for a master and slave pair, especially given the realities of your situation.'

'What does all this mean?' Mara asked out loud. 'Short version, please.'

'The term we use is entanglement. I pulled them out in time to stop any permanent damage to either psyche, but they both came out of it carrying just a little bit of each other in their minds,' Lysithea's head swivelled to look at Mara. 'The plain answer, barring any psychic terminology, is that Sander's now incredibly attracted to Amy, and vice versa. Is that short enough, Mara?'

'Right...' Mara frowned, pouting without realizing it. 'Can you do anything about it?'

'Not me personally,' Lysithea said out loud. 'It's really down to the two of them to figure it out, although they seem to be enjoying themselves right now,' She gestured vaguely at the shuddering, moaning duo. 'It'll probably fade in time.'

'Ooh, I like that probably!' Mara clapped her hands together, voice filled with sarcasm strong enough to etch glass.

'Entanglement is an imprecise process,' Lysithea shrugged. 'They might shrug it off the minute they leave this room, or they might fall into each other's arms and never let go.'

'And here I thought he's supposed to be fawning over me...' Mara murmured, her tone joking but the hardness in her eyes saying otherwise. 'No, no, no...'

Sander and Amy's lovemaking had wound down while Mara was lost in thought, the last shivering spasms of orgasm running through them as she pulled herself to her feet and circled the two of them, eyes soft and sparkling. Her gaze was inexorably drawn to the scar that dominated Sander's shoulder. Well, she had to start somewhere...

As Sander slipped out of Amy's glistening pussy, Mara grabbed his hand and pulled him away, giggling as she dragged him to his feet and separated him from Amy. She wore her most winning smile.

'Sander...' She purred, running her hand over his shoulder. 'Tell me about your scar.'

His brow furrowed, his eyes glanced back at Amy, 'What? I've already said I don't want to talk about it...' He trailed off.

Mara's mouth curved wickedly, 'Maybe I should just poke around in your head and find out myself,' She pulled herself closer, her breath hot on his chest, 'You seemed to like it just fine when Amy was doing it.'

Sander was silent for a moment as he tried to figure out if she was joking. It was so hard to tell, with Mara. He kept drifting back to Amy, so enticingly vulnerable in her ropes. The things he could do to her...

Looking over his shoulder, he saw her eyes glittering. He half turned toward her, then stiffened.

'Mara, stop!' He exclaimed, pushing her away as her presence loomed in his mind. She froze, staring at him with wide eyes as her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. He looked angry, but only for a moment before he turned back to Amy, his features lighting up.

As Sander moved back to the bed, Mara closed her eyes and pushed her mind deeper. There was no time to think, to consider the best path to take. She needed to fix this, before things went too far. She could see his mind, the column of blue light rising in her mind's eye.

She probed deeper, willing herself inside, and...

A dark, fiery figure rose in her mind, blocking out everything else, 'Get out!' It growled, causing Mara to stumble back and cry out in surprise.

Sander wheeled around, face frozen in anger, 'I told you to stay out, Mara! What's in my head doesn't concern you!'

Anger was the wrong emotion to call upon. Mara knew that, but when it came, spurred by the hurt of his rejection, she revelled in it, 'What the fuck do you mean? You're the one who's been trying to get all up in my business every chance you get!' She snapped.

'Was that a mistake, Mara? You don't just go poking around in someone's mind whenever you fucking feel like it.'

Mara clenched her teeth and raised her chin, eyes flashing with wounded rage, 'But it's good enough for Amy, yes? For the woman you kidnapped? I stick around for years, but you'll only share with her?' Her voice cracked.

Sander stood silent, shoulders squared and teeth bared. His mouth opened, anger forming the words for him, 'I'm beginning to think that it was for the best.'

He moved, storming out of the room. As he passed her, Mara's fists clenched and she almost moved to stop him, pausing at the last minute.

'You're just like all the others,' She whispered bitterly, just loud enough for him to hear. 'You are exactly like him.'

The door closed. Mara's eyes fell to the floor. She stood motionless.

There was stillness, and then, as if nothing had happened, Mara raised her head and sighed. Her hand rose, with the slightest, well concealed suggestion that it was wiping away tears.

'How disappointing...' Mara sighed, a tiny, fragile smile cresting her lips. 'Ah, well; come here, Amy.'

She slid down next to Amy, golden hair falling around her like a curtain. Her mouth descended, kissing Amy deeply and with desperation-edged verve. The unspoken tension was like electricity between them, conflicting with the growing lust that Lysithea was multiplying.

Amy didn't know how the infighting between Sander and Mara would affect her, but she doubted it would be good. The moment Sander had left the room that strange warmth she had felt for him had left her, leaving a momentarily gaping hole in her heart. It quickly healed, and she was nominally back to normal, but it was disturbing when it left her. Now that it was gone, she could see how ridiculous it was, but in the moment, she...

In the moment, she had, against all logic, loved him. How weird.

Mara was practically attacking her, mouth hungrily latching onto her flushed, prickling skin like it was her last meal. It was so clear that she was just distracting herself to avoid talking to Sander, how could she possibly be fooling herself with this act?

Still, Amy cried out in ecstasy as Mara's tongue flicked at her nipple. That Field was still up, inter-group conflict or not. The heat was rising, she would react to Mara's touch. She would scream, and beg, and do whatever Mara wanted. Nothing changes.

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

Sander sat with his back to the wall, Theros' sunlight caressing his bare skin with its warmth. He was glad; it wouldn't have been good to have to retreat back inside because he had been caught in the cold without pants.

He frowned. Back in his right mind, Sander felt entirely self-conscious about what had happened between himself and Amy. In the moment, there had been no difference in his mind between Amy and Elsa. The two had been the same. Now, with the moment dead and gone, the guilt of even thinking that was overwhelming. Elsa had been his motivation; how could he have muddled that?

But he was back to normal now. Amy was... They were both back to normal now.

But Mara... He shouldn't have said that to her. He felt bad, but she had tried to enter his mind. You don't just do that. There were things in there he hadn't shared for a reason. They were uniquely his, the last remnants of what was precious to him. They were not to be pried apart and analysed for Mara's amusement.

That was the problem with anger; it never lets you back down, even if you know you should.

'Oh, my...' Sander stiffened as Lysithea's voice reached into his mind and laughed. 'It's a pity that you and Mara are fighting, Sander.'

'Lysithea?' Sander projected. 'I thought you said you weren't going into my head anymore.'

'I can see that the both of you care, deep down,' Lysithea went on without stopping. 'But neither of you will make the first move? Too bad. If only the two of you had... I don't know, a way of reading the other's mind? Would that work, I wonder?' Sander hadn't thought that it was possible for a thought to poke him in the chest, but Lysithea was giving it a damn good effort.

'I get it...'

'Somebody has to make the first move, Sander Hackett. Mara won't. I'm wondering why you haven't yet?'

'Alright! Fine, I'm going!' Sander tried to think exasperated thoughts. He stood, and experimentally flexed his mind along the connection. He could feel Mara and Amy, even from this distance, but they were doing naughty things. He actually couldn't tell which was which; their thoughts were so similar. Naughty things. He felt his knees go weak and his eyes slide skyward; even out here things felt pretty intense.

'God damn it...' He sighed, closing his eyes. He would have to go back in there. It was the only way.

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

The Doctor lurched to one side as the TARDIS came to a stop. Before Rory could even recover from the same shuddering landing, the Time Lord was already opening the doors and stepping out into a deep pool of shadow beyond.

'Right!' The alien snapped. 'Let's get this over with.'

'Right!' Rory affirmed. 'Right? What are we doing?'

The Doctor ignored him as he was swallowed up by the shadows. Rory momentarily contemplated just how many bad things happened in the dark before following him; whatever was out there couldn't possibly be worse than never finding Amy.

'Viral, I know you're out here!' The Doctor yelled. 'You can't hide from me. Well, I suppose you could, but I'd just keep yelling at you! I've got time, and-'

'Don't get distracted, Doctor,' Rory followed the sound of the Time Lord's voice through the swimming blackness, groping his way into the same dim circle of light that the immortal now occupied.

'Yes, right...' He nodded. 'Viral!' The Doctor squinted, casting his eyes through the inky shadows as though sheer energy would illuminate the way ahead.

'I am here, Time Lord.'

Rory stiffened as something in that unseen voice raced through his mind and repeatedly pressed his "Primal Terror" button. It was a deep, ageless voice that spoke with tectonic deliberation and sweeping malice. It sidled through the darkness and right into his brain.

'What the hell is that?' Rory hissed, hoping fervently that whatever it was, it couldn't hear him.

'The Earth-Clan will be silent,' Something shifted in the shadows, the vague suggestion of an immense, craggy pincer becoming visible for a second. 'I do not have business with it.'

'No, but you do have business with me, Viral,' The Doctor said coldly, eyeing a patch of gloom that Rory assumed was playing host to whatever the hell Viral was.

'Yes, Gallifreyan,' Viral rumbled. 'I do. You want to find the woman with the red hair. I can help you.'

Rory opened his mouth to ask the obvious question, but the Doctor's cool glare silenced him. When the huge shadowy monster demands silence, it's best to acquiesce. His hands balled into fists as, once again, he was rendered completely useless while the Doctor found his wife for him.

'We know she was with a Trine-form recently,' The Doctor said, addressing a volcanic rumbling from the dark, as though two huge stones were rubbing together. 'Psychically connected, even. That should be enough for you to go on, right?'

Viral opened its eyes, two circular yellow lights shining brightly in the blackness. With this added illumination, Rory could more clearly see the vast carapace of the monster before him. He didn't think it was possible, but he stiffened further, Viral's eldritch gaze swinging momentarily to him, which didn't help matters.

They were standing on a stone platform hanging over a pool of infinite darkness, in the middle of a cavern. Behind them, the TARDIS sat at the end of a pathway covered thickly in dark, earthy-smelling dirt, seeming altogether too far away.




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 09



Viral hung from one curving rock wall, a huge, shifting shell of living stone with multiple pincered legs scuttling constantly across the cavernous surface. Rory was in no doubt that the chaotic form in front of him could crush both himself and the Doctor with negligible effort.

'It is,' Viral growled. 'I can find you the Trine-form. But it will be costly; do you have payment for me, Doctor?'

'Oh, come on, Viral...' The Doctor said with a winning smile. 'We've worked together before. You know me-'

'I do, Doctor,' Viral affirmed. 'Which is why I know to obtain payment in advance.'

The Doctor's grin turned sheepish and he cast his eyes down to avoid the penetrating spotlight of the abomination's eyes. Rory fought to stop the horror mounting in his gut from appearing on his face; the Doctor had met this thing before? And he had come back? What kind of business did Viral do, that he was so unavoidable?

He fished in the pocket of his suit, producing a tiny object that glinted in the dim light, 'A white point star, Viral. The last white point star, in the entire universe. And this one's got some history; I stole it from the Master, back when we last-'

'I remember, Gallifreyan,' Viral interrupted again. 'Your tribute has stood witness to important events. This is good, but I require more. I require my standard fee, in addition to this pleasant trinket.'

'Viral,' The Doctor began pleadingly.

'You are betting with no cards in your hand, Doctor,' Viral cut him off. 'I will dictate the terms, if you wish to see Amy Pond again.'

Rory almost said something at that, but the Doctor anticipated this and put up a hand to silence him. The expression on his face grew dark, his eyes glinting harshly.

'You know, one of these days we're going to have to talk about this whole arrangement you have, Viral,' The Time Lord growled. 'You don't want to be the being standing between me and my friend.'

'And you don't want to be the being that threatens me, oh Oncoming Storm,' Viral hissed. 'Especially not if you wish to leave here with your other friend, instead of just leaving in pieces... Five years, Doctor. My final offer.'

There was a moment of silence as the Doctor thought, his mind wheeling desperately for an alternative and, to his eternal frustration, finding none. He hated being trapped, but Viral was the only one who could help here; even he didn't know what it was, only that its unique talents came in handy for situations exactly like this one. If only the price wasn't always so steep...

He threw the gleaming white diamond onto the ground ahead of him, and said in a flat voice, 'Fine. I accept. Now tell me where I can find the Trine-form.'

Viral's heavy head tilted to one side, a deep, fiery noise issuing from it that might have been laughter, 'Oh, you are going to laugh when you hear this...'

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

Mara's fingers slid deeply into Amy. She squealed, quaking against her captor as she tore another orgasm from her tender body. Whatever it was that Mara was thinking, she was really being mean about this.

Amy screamed, the edges of her perception fraying away to nothing as another heated blast of pleasure drove her breath from her lungs and burned into her senses. After countless intense climaxes, each orgasm was like lava in her veins.

Mara's tongue burned blazing trails down her stomach and over her hips, nuzzling at the graceful, curving flesh. Amy writhed beneath the blonde's skilled tongue, sinking deeper into the fires of ecstasy. Mara's teeth captured her aching clit, flicking it with her tongue as fresh juices spilled against her chin. Two fingers joined the oral assault, sliding deeply into Amy's hot, slick hole. She tumbled over the edge again, screaming out her agonized climax for everyone to hear. Her mind was blasted away by her body's insistent want.

'Please, Mara! Stop!' Amy's mouth was barely able to form the plea before her throat was hijacked by another weak moan. She could no longer control herself; her hips ground against Mara's mouth, her thighs doing whatever they could to wrap around her neck. It was hopeless, she was being swept away on a tide of golden light. Even the feeling of Mara's long hair brushing against her legs was an unbearable pleasure that made her muscles tighten. Amy couldn't take much more of this...

And yet Mara persisted, burying her rejection under layers of desire and the shared feeling of fulfilment she was getting from Amy. She was silent, rejecting every desperate, shrieking plea from Amy, every one of her probing, unsteady thoughts, keeping the barrier between their minds strong through sheer force of will. Neither of them heard the door open. It took Sander's hand on Mara's shoulder before she even recognized that they were no longer alone.

'What? Oh, it's you,' Mara said, hoping desperately that her sadness was fully masked behind steely defiance. 'What do you want?' She said sullenly.

Sander shook his head and moved his hand from her shoulder, grabbing her own hand and enveloping it in his. Mara's eyes widened.

He pulled her off of the bed, pulled her away from an increasingly relieved Amy. He dragged her out of the room, his grip on her wrist allowing no resistance, his face grimly determined and silent in the face of Mara's questioning.

'What do you want, Sander?' She yelled as they made it outside, fingers of sunlight casting their skin in warm orange and deep red. 'Didn't you disappoint me enough back there? Wanted to keep proving how much of an ass you are?'

'Shut up,' He said quietly, his eyes closed. 'Just this once, Mara. Let someone else have the last word.'

'What the fuck are you-'

'Mara, I had to rehearse this whole thing before I went in to get you. If you keep interrupting I'll fuck it up, I'm sure of it,' Sander didn't meet her fiery gaze. 'Just let me do my thing, alright?'

'Fine. Whatever,' Mara crossed her arms over her chest defiantly.

'Nice of you. Appreciate it,' Sander deadpanned, turning his back on her. He sighed, and opened his eyes for the first time since coming out here. A thrill of anxiety went through him; he hoped that this would work.

He grinned, 'Oh, no!' He said flatly. 'I have turned my back, thus leaving myself open to any person who might be behind me,' He tried not to laugh as he injected absolutely no dismay into his acting. He could practically feel Mara's confusion boring into his back. Time to turn it up a notch.

'With my back turned like this, any woman who happened to be behind me would find it remarkably easy to read my mind, assuming that she had that ability. I would never know!' It was becoming harder to contain his laughter. Behind him, Mara smiled despite herself.

'And what am I doing, thinking about the origin of my mysterious scar? What a potential olive branch this would be! It is a pity that Mara-'

'Jesus! Shut up, Hackett!' Mara giggled. 'I get it!'

She laughed again, and Sander snorted with laughter himself. She reached out to hold his hand as she closed her eyes and reached out to touch his mind. It was all there, on the surface, waiting for her.

Sander's memory filled up Mara's mind's eye, playing out for her as though she was there. Her first reaction was to marvel at how young Sander looked, back in his halcyon days when he ruled Vesperia.

Her heart sank as she realized what day in his life this must be. Somebody was about to die.

As if in fast-forward, the face of the Doctor, two regenerations prior, flitted through Sander's office. She had seen this footage before; Sander had gone to some trouble to procure it from the ruins of his office so he could relive his greatest defeat over and over. But this was from his perspective; she could feel his panic as everything failed and the people took back control of the planet. In one stroke of that sonic screwdriver, the Doctor had torn Sander's life apart.

Like any memory, this one was patchy, and skipped around. Sander squeezed her hand tighter as the next segment started. Mara could feel his cold, terrible emptiness open back up like a mortal wound. She remembered him talking about this moment, just once; quietly, and only after he had been drinking.

It was the worst kind of tragedy; Sander had discovered his wife's body through the opportunistic lens of a news camera, trained on the open rioting that had preceded his fall. Mara could feel his eyes opening wide as though they were her own, could feel the prickling, helpless tears that fell. She could feel the muscles in his face shifting in abject despair, feel his hands shaking. Worst of all, she could feel his soul being scooped out, piece by piece, as the cold mechanical camera zoomed in on Elsa's bloodied body.

The rage came and threatened to overwhelm him, but Sander was smarter than to allow that, even in his darkest hour. He forced himself to remain cool, putting aside everything dark that welled up inside him and leaving only his intellect. She could feel him running to his private shuttle.

Only when he was safely off the ground did he let his grief engulf him. He bowed his head low, eyes staring emptily at the control panel, hands limp by his sides. The memory skipped forward again; Mara got the feeling that Sander didn't do much during this period.

A warning klaxon sounded. Sander barely had time to move. His screens showed that an anti-air missile had been hacked; his shuttle was the target. Someone on the ground didn't want him escaping. Mara could feel his resolve building, spreading through him, strong as steel. He would survive.

The shuttle bucked, with the sound of screeching metal bubbling under the explosion. The hull shattered inwards, sparks and white hot shards of metal spinning into the cockpit. There was the horrifying organic thud of shrapnel hitting flesh.

Sander screamed in a loud, raw voice as the molten metal sheared through the skin, flesh and bone of his shoulder. In the present, Mara had to stop herself doing the same; she could feel the pain deep down in her bones, so real and so present and so all consuming... She lowered her head, breathing hard.

Sander's forehead slammed against the cold metal control panel as he blacked out, just for a moment. Blood, hot and sticky, dripped down his neck to slicken the floor. His eyes flicked open, vision strobing on and off, so dark.

'Oh, fuck this...' He wheezed through the pain, struggling to his feet. Every movement was a monumental effort; his analytical mind catalogued the damage. Severe burns, shrapnel embedded in the bone of his shoulder blade, deep lacerations, clothes melted and fused to the wound, blood loss worsening by the second...

Not good.

The shuttle had crashed while he had been unconscious; the fact that he had survived at all was a miracle. Leaning heavily against the wall, oozing a crimson streak against it as he moved, Sander struggled along to the aft. Sunlight streamed through the hole in the hull, and by yet another miracle the medical kit had remained intact. Sander struggled with his shaking hands to open it.

The memory skipped again, stopping off to detail the fresh rush of agony as Sander pressed the nozzle of a can of antiseptic gel against his wound and pulled the trigger. The gel would harden upon contact with the air; stopping the bleeding and staving off infection. A good start, but no less unpleasant because of it.

A shadow passed over the light spilling into the cockpit. Sander's eyelids drooped into his usual irritated scowl. He turned, slowly, to eye the gun being waved in his face. There were no words exchanged between the two of them, the former dictator and his attacker. What would be the point? Everyone on Vesperia wanted Sander Hackett dead; if this man did it here, anonymously, who would care?

And at that moment, Sander wanted everyone on Vesperia dead. His wrath flooded through him, and his blood boiled with it. Sander welcomed the beast into his heart with open arms.

It only took a moment. Even in his memory, Sander's disbelief at what he had done flowed through the scene like subtext. He leaped, howling wordlessly. In his third miracle of the day, the gun didn't go off. Sander bore his former subject to the cold steel floor of his ruined shuttle and slammed his head against a nearby bulkhead until he stopped moving. Sander's eyes were cold and empty.

With a rush, Mara pulled herself out of Sander's past with a sob, stumbling away from him. He stood, silhouetted motionless in the sunset, not daring to look at her.

'So that's where I got my scar,' He said quietly. 'It goes on like that for three days or so, but you get the idea.'

'My god...' Mara breathed. A moment of silent stillness seemed to stretch on like an eternity between them before Mara regained her senses and rushed over to him. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to her, his arms limp and unresisting at his sides. She hugged him tightly to her.

'I'm sorry. I didn't know,' She sobbed, burying her face in his chest.

'How could you know?' Sander said in a hollow voice. 'I never told you.'

'And then you did,' She said. 'Why?'

'Because that's me,' He said. 'That's who I am. Besides, somebody needed to take the first step.'

She looked up at him, saw him smiling back at her with haunted, liquid eyes. She tried to summon the energy to grin at him, the way she always did, but she couldn't. So she laid her head against the bare skin of his chest, and sighed.

'All right. You've made your point,' She said softly. 'Come inside and see my damage, then.'

'What?'

'I've seen your past. Now it's your turn. It's a grand fuckin' trust exercise, right?'

'You're sure?' He asked softly.

'Yes, damn it! Don't give me the time to actually think about it!'

His hands took their position at the small of her back, drawing her closer to him. He closed his eyes and lowered his head so that it rested in the soft hair on top of Mara's head. He reached out with his mind.

Like before, it was hard to perceive the interior of Mara's brain. Every thought existed with such intensity that it was like looking into the sun. He had gone deeper than before, but it hadn't gotten any easier for Sander.

The gold light that represented her thoughts spiralled up into the darkness, spilling motes of light into the air beyond. If he pressed, Sander found he could open a hole through into the eye of the storm. Something inside turned, something dark and vaguely humanoid. He could feel her sadness and anger draped heavily over it, but it was impossible to see clearly. Who was he?

Sander blinked, pulling out. In rapid internal monologue, he questioned whether it would be appropriate to ask Mara about what he had seen. How would she take it? Would she get angry? Now wasn't the time to risk anything and screw up, so-

'Just ask her about him!' Lysithea's voice drilled into his consciousness, exasperated beyond belief. 'Good lord, I've never had to work this hard to get two people who cared this much together!'

Sander shook his head, 'Who was he?' He asked gently, running a finger down Mara's spine. She shivered and wiggled against him.

'Him? Walker Ichihara. He's... my ex, I guess,' Mara sighed, shifting uncomfortably. 'I don't often talk about him.'

'You don't have to, you know.'

'No, no, I invited you in. I'll spill,' She said delicately. 'Walker and I... we were together for a long time. He's like me, Y'know? All sort of weird and twisted up inside. We used to do all sorts of crazy stuff together.'

Sander looked away, 'Yeah, you don't need to tell me about that...'

'True,' Mara smiled. 'The point is, it didn't work out. Walker was crazier than I knew.' Her eyes grew dark, and she glanced sidelong out at the ocean, 'Turns out, Walker Ichihara was a highly prolific serial killer.'

'What?! You're kidding!' Sander said, taken aback.

'I wish, Sander. I really do, because at the time I had no fucking idea, and he was doing it in, like, the next room over from me.'

'That's not... good,' Sander finished lamely, squeezing Mara's hand in what he hoped was a supportive manner.

'That's one way of putting it,' Mara eyed him. 'We had been living together for a while, but the place was registered in my name. When the law finally caught up with him... He skipped the planet, leaving all his evidence in an apartment that doesn't have his name on the lease.'

'Oh.'

'I ended up running. I had to. I wasn't exactly clean myself, although nothing as bad as Walker,' Mara said ruefully. 'That's how I ended up on Myriad when you were first there. It was pretty bad, trying to find my way in that place.'

'Did you love him?' Sander asked, almost afraid of what the answer could be.

'Yes,' Mara sighed. 'Once. I was stupid like that, once upon a time.'

Sander frowned. It wasn't so often that he found himself in moments like this. He didn't really know how to react, but with the wave of affection that swept through him, it didn't really matter. His hands slid up her back to encircle her shoulders, drawing her in as close as possible.

'Look at us,' He laughed, kissing the top of her head. 'Damaged goods. It's dangerous, the two of us being together.'

Mara grunted, 'Yeah, we wouldn't want to spur each other into doing something illegal...' She smiled pointedly.

'Ha. Yeah, that'd be bad, huh?'

'Mm... ' Mara pressed herself against him, the heat of her body so wonderful. She turned in his arms, so that the soft curve of her back pushed against his chest.

'And you say we wouldn't be good together...' Sander chided, circling a finger around her navel. She giggled softly in return.

'You're looking better every day, Hackett...'

Sander chuckled, rocking gently from side to side. The two of them swayed, the moment of serenity seeming to stretch out for eternity. Beyond them, the perfect mirror ocean spread out like a silver plain, reflecting the roiling clouds above. Their breathing slowed as they stayed in the silent peace, merely enjoying the other's presence.

Sander's finger continued to trace the edge of Mara's belly button, the soft skin quivering at his touch. Absently, almost without thinking, Mara reached up, gently took hold of Sander's wrist. She guided his hand down, sliding over her stomach and between her legs. At her urging, his finger slid inside her, drawing a tiny moan from Mara's throat.

For mere moments, Sander's finger moved inside her, making Mara shudder with pleasure. Slowly though, Sander's eyes opened, and he furrowed his brow. He pulled out of her, raising his arms to hug her across her collarbone.

'Sander?' Mara glanced over her shoulder at him, her voice carrying a hint of disappointment. He sighed.

'You still aren't ready. I get that,' He said, smiling wistfully. 'Ruining a moment like that with your naughty bits... Your heart isn't in this to win it yet. I'll wait, though. If today's proven anything, it's that you're worth waiting for. Maybe when this is all over-' He froze with a sudden intake of breath. In his arms, Mara's eyes widened.

The question hung in the air between them like the poised blade of a guillotine. "When this is all over." When would this be over? And how would it end? There were only two ways...

'Sorry...' Sander breathed in Mara's ear.

Mara spoke slowly, carefully, as though each word needed to be forcibly pulled into being, 'I think... I think that when we kidnapped Amy we crossed a line that neither of us realized was there. I don't know about you, but I-'

'I know about me. I like her too,' Sander mused, his voice troubled. 'But it's a little odd that you do; you're not exactly the type of person who likes other people to begin with, and some of the things you do with her-'




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 09



'Hey! You were there too, Hackett,' Mara grinned. 'Just because I get a little rough with someone doesn't mean I don't like 'em. I mean, she always got off in the end, eh?'

'Hmm,' Sander sighed absently. 'What the fuck do we do with her?'

'That's up to you, boss,' Mara said gently. 'It's always been up to you.'

Sander stood silent for a long time, clinging to Mara as though she were a life preserver. When the words finally did come, they carried the note of unbendable resolve.

'I don't know how this is all going to play out. We may both be dead when it's all said and done. Or Amy might. Or the Doctor. But it's going to cost someone dearly, that's a certainty. This is a high stakes game we're all playing, whether we knew it when we started or not,' Sander lowered his head and sighed. 'But I don't regret any of it. Not a second. Everything I've done... This is my life now. I have nothing else but my revenge...' He trailed off. Mara's hand had slipped into his own.

'Untrue,' She whispered, just on the edge of his hearing. Silence descended.

'Thank you,' Sander said thickly, bending low to kiss Mara's cheek. This moment; both would have been content with staying like this for a while longer, but...

'Isn't this a touching scene?' Lysithea's smiling face poked out through the doorframe. 'I'm glad it worked out alright for the two of you, but your time is up. Do you feel you used it wisely? Did we learn something today?'

'Do I detect a patronizing tone there, alien?' Mara said archly. She stepped out of Sander's embrace, but her hand never left his. 'Aren't we paying you?'

Lysithea nodded, 'Yes. For the psychic linkup and use of the Amplification Field. The patronizing is a gift from me to you.'

'Well all right then,' Sander grinned. 'We'll get out of your hair. Mara, why don't you go untie Amy? I think it's time to get off of this rock, anyway.'

Mara searched Sander's eyes with a smile, the sunlight spinning off of him making him seem luminous and alive with energy.

'Alright, boss,' She said, walking away. 'Homecoming, huh? Vacation's done? All fuckin' right. We have some serious work to do anyway, right, Sander?'

'Oh yes. There's much to accomplish,' He smiled brightly, with his entire body. 'Much to do...'

An idea occurred. Sander snapped his fingers, 'Hey, Mara! We should track down this Walker asshole so you can deck him! Sound good?'

'Fuck yeah!'

To be continued...



Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 10



Author's note: Hey folks. Sorry about the wait; that'll teach me to make promises I can't keep, eh?

Anyway, praise be to Isabel and Allyourbase once more for their help in making this thing readable. And chapter eleven will be up and about in a couple of days time, which is something I intend to stick to this time. You just wait and see.

Comments, feedback and votes are intensely appreciated. Enjoy!

*

The Doctor re-entered the TARDIS looking ashen faced, and strode silently to the control panel to input co-ordinates. Rory followed, eyes shifting nervously about the control room.

'What was that thing?'

The Doctor shrugged, but didn't look up. He didn't like not knowing things, but in cases like Viral's he was only too happy to remain in the dark. Some things weren't worth knowing.

'Alright, fine; what did it take from you? There was that weird light, and-'

'Five years, Rory,' The Doctor said flatly. 'Five years of my life to find Amy. Five years, only to find out that we'd already been where we needed to go!' He slammed a fist down on the controls hard enough to make things vibrate.

Rory's eyes widened. The Doctor had given up part of his own life, just for a chance at finding Amy? Once again, that hollow, conflicted feeling; the Doctor was his best chance at ever finding his wife again, but he felt terribly useless, terribly jealous, that he wasn't able to lift a finger to help.

'But aren't Time Lords supposed to be immortal, or something?' He ventured, some strange green-eyed part of himself demanding that he attempt to lessen the Doctor's sacrifice for its own benefit.

The Doctor waved a hand vaguely, 'It's not the time itself that I'm worried about, Rory. You're right, we live for a very, very long time. Five years is nothing on that scale,' He shot the human a sidelong glance. 'But five years of a Time Lord's life is a very powerful thing for anyone else to have. Every moment of it is packed full of time energy, Artron energy... all sorts of things that the rest of the universe finds hard to come by. And Viral seems to be collecting time from me, every time I need to see it. Can you see why I might not want something like Viral to accumulate something like that?'

'Yeah...' Rory said indistinctly. This wasn't helping his jealousy any.

The Doctor threw one final lever, and the time machine lurched forward, 'Come on, let's go. We're catching up.'

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

'72- Simple Vector, this is Sierra Complex Control requesting identification. Also, please lower your approach velocity to within practical limits.'

'Negative... Sierra Complex. There's w-wounded on board. Don't have much time.'

'Simple Vector, if you attempt auto-docking at that speed you'll crack your hull, not to mention the damage you'll do here. We're a commercial facility; we don't have the hull plating to handle an impact like that. Lower your speed or switch to manual and await a go-round. Second request for identification, over.'

'No time, Sierra Complex! I'm on the edge here... Posting priority Level Zero code to you now. Ugh... Fuck!'

'... Level Zero priority granted, pending identification, Simple Vector. Who are you?'

'Not... Not important, Sierra Complex. I've got a shoulder blasted to shit, severe burns, shattered hand, left eye's fucked beyond repair and I'm pretty sure I'm bleeding out. You've got my clearance, now post a docking solution before I die and this thing turns into a floating missile!'

'You're alone, Simple Vector?'

'Fuckin' A! And I'm dipping in and out of consciousness, so I need to lock in a goddamn flight path now rather than later! If you can't figure out who I am when you see me, then your administrator can. Now open the door!'

'... Posting solution to you now, Simple Vector. Please be advised that upon entering the Sierra Complex Medical Station you will be a guest of Hackett Industries, and no longer subject to Terran law. Any violations will be met with lethal force, over.'

'Yeah... Believe me, I know...'

Sander awoke with a groan. He hadn't realized that he was that tired, but here he was.

He smiled grimly as his shoulders shook; from the moment he had shared a part of his escape from Vesperia with Mara, he knew he would be reliving the rest of those memories in the hours to come. It wasn't pleasant, but it was the price he paid for that moment on the deck of Nirvana...

Of course, Mara hadn't got the whole truth. Large parts of his ordeal he had kept under wraps, mostly because it was just meaningless, abject darkness. Partly because the full extent of the damage he had incurred on Vesperia was rather disturbing, and he hadn't wanted to ruin the moment. Mara should never, ever know that.

He looked around his ship with a wistful smile; he had stolen a random shuttle from a Vesperian spaceport to get to the Sierra Complex, and he'd kept it running to this day. 72-Simple Vector had been one of the only stable elements in his life for the past thirteen years. The old crate had served him well.

The viewing screen displayed an unchanging view of the stars. Sander had always thought that looking up at the stars was a slightly lonely pursuit, but right now he couldn't deny a certain pleasant symmetry; between vast expanses of utter, existential nothingness, the universe was exploding.

In the hold behind him, Mara and Amy slept. Sander looked over his shoulder and smiled. After Nirvana, Mara looked completely different to him. Where before he had only seen a vaguely frightening force of nature wrapped up in a thick layer of sarcasm, now he saw an actual person. A woman betrayed, and so, so angry. Suddenly, the terrifying, burning Mara that had surfaced the night before and taken merciless control of Amy's punishment made a lot of sense. He liked Mara generally, but he found himself particularly intrigued by that dark other that had taken her place that night. Dark Mara. Huh.

She had taken control; not just of Amy, not just of the situation, but of him too. And it had felt good. On an intellectual level, it had been pleasant to cede control to someone else, to just get caught up in the flow and allow another to plan for him. But Mara's vicious mentality, her dark confidence... Something in that had called to something deep within him. He hoped that it had answered correctly.

He found himself hoping, in the core of his being, that the dark Mara would return sometime soon. She was spectacular. As bizarre as it had been, Sander found himself longing for a repeat performance. He had never felt pleasure quite like that before...

The console buzzed. Sander turned in his seat; the shuttle's automated proximity warning had activated. Another ship was within range of the rather limited communications array. Strange; space was large, and the odds were against ever seeing another craft in deep space, even with the prevalence of faster than light travel.

Sander pressed a button, causing the registry information to spill out across the screen. His eyes lit up, and he gasped.

'No way!' He laughed, swivelling in his seat. 'Mara! Mara, wake up!'

'What?' Mara said roughly, squinting at Sander.

'Mara, it's the Oviroa!' Sander clapped excitedly. 'We've found the Oviroa!'

'No, we haven't,' Mara yawned. 'The Oviroa is just an urban legend.'

Sander gestured to the screen and raised an eyebrow, 'Well it's right there, Mara. At least, some ship bearing the name Oviroa on its registry is there...' He conceded.

'If you're that concerned with letting the opportunity slip by you, I say hail them,' Mara shrugged, unbuckling herself from her seat to join him. She slipped into the co-pilot's chair, 'What's the worst that could happen?'

Sander shrugged. Grinning at her, he keyed in the hailing frequency of the passing ship. He noted with a hint of apprehension that the Oviroa, whether it was the real deal or not, was a Frigate-class starship, and easily capable of reducing his shuttle to motes of steel dust in seconds. Not the best ship to be next to when completely alone in deep space, then.

'Oviroa, this is 72- Simple Vector, broadcasting on an open channel. Please respond,' Sander did his best to sound official. At this early juncture, being himself would probably lead to... well, motes in deep space.

Seconds later, the reply came, 'Simple Vector, this is the Oviroa. Requesting identification, over.'

Mara shot Sander a questioning look. It was a little early to be requesting a passenger manifest, and given the size disparity between the two vessels, it was impossible that the Oviroa wouldn't know what this would look like to the smaller ship.   

'Are we going to get jacked?' Mara half-joked. Sander held a finger to his lips.

'Oviroa, I need a little clarification; are you guys the Oviroa, or just an Oviroa?' He said.

There was a chuckle from the other end of the line, 'We're the Oviroa, Simple Vector. The one and only. Transmitting identification now. Second request for identification, over.'

Sander looked over the Oviroa's registry. Everything seemed to be above board; the ship had been registered with the Terran Fleetcom and everything. However...

'It's a New Earth ship?' Sander said quizzically. 'I didn't think they built anything there anymore.'

'It is an older model, Sander,' Mara pointed out. 'Perfectly likely it was built before the Terran expansion.'

'I guess so. Well, do you want to try getting invited in?' Sander grinned at Mara. 'It's a once in a lifetime chance, Mara.' He whooped with childlike laughter, 'It's the motherfucking Oviroa, dude!'

Mara high-fived him, the two of them laughing together. It was good.

'Oviroa, this is Simple Vector, providing identification. You're speaking with the pilot; name's Sander Hackett.' Sander winced as he said his own name; if anything was going to get him denied access to the other ship, it would be his name. But it wasn't like he could just lie; they would find out pretty quickly, and then he'd be in real trouble.

There was a pause, and Sander thought he could hear furious typing on the other end of the line, 'Are you the Sander Hackett, or a Sander Hackett?'

Mara squeezed Sander's shoulder sympathetically as his eyes went dark and downcast. He frowned apologetically; it looked as though they weren't going to board the Oviroa after all, and he felt bad for ruining this chance for Mara.

'The Sander Hackett,' He said grimly. 'The one and only.'

There was another pause, and then, 'Huh. Come aboard, Sander Hackett. Since you know what the Oviroa is, I doubt I need to explain why.'

'Thank you, Oviroa...' Sander said haltingly. This was... unexpected.

'Oh, well hell yeah, then!' Mara crowed. 'Looks like there's a person in the universe who doesn't care about your reputation, Sander! Good for you!'

'Yeah... great.'

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

'Remain in the docking bay, Simple Vector,' the familiar voice from the radio buzzed out of a number of speakers inset above the door. 'I'm sending someone to greet you now.'

'Well, this place is... Way better than the shuttle,' Mara deadpanned. 'Sander, I thought you were loaded. Why not something like this?'

'Because I don't care about all that,' Sander shrugged. 'Shuttle gets me planetside, shuttle's worth keeping. Although now that you mention it, this is pretty lush.'

The Oviroa was an older ship, but it had been well maintained. It wasn't terribly rare to see ships this old, in spaceports or the orbital fleets of smaller commercial worlds, but never this polished. The airlock behind them opened onto the rear hull of the ship; if direction had meant anything in the weightless environment of space, Sander had needed to reverse the shuttle in to dock. The second one crossed that threshold, the disparity between the two craft became apparent. Put simply, the Oviroa was way, way nicer.

All gleaming chrome and polished white polymer surfaces, the Oviroa had that classic science-fiction look that, at least in Sander's mind, would never go out of style. Every surface looked slick, as though one could simply glide along them without ever worrying about friction. Amy glanced around with a hounded look in her eyes; whenever Sander and Mara decided to play tourist, she always ended up losing out.

'So, what is this place?' She said finally, tired of speculating.

'The Oviroa,' Sander said absently, gazing around the docking bay. Something in this seemed awfully familiar...

'Where we come from, this ship is legendary, Amy,' Mara clapped her on the shoulder. 'Nobody knows who captains the thing, and those who do are sworn to secrecy, or something. But for twenty years or so, the Oviroa's been cruising occupied space, picking up travellers at random and basically having fun. It's supposedly one long party that travels the galaxy non-stop.'

'And nobody's ever so much as gotten a picture of the thing. So of course we had to join in when we got the chance,' Sander gave a half-hearted grin and tried to get in the spirit of the thing, but found it impossible. Some small part of his brain was nagging at him, trying to prod his memory into action. Shit, what was it...

At the other end of the docking bay, a mechanical door slid open soundlessly. Everyone turned to the figure standing in the doorway. All at once, Sander let out a wordless sound of surprise and strode forward towards the figure. The crewman, a tall, languid individual with intelligent, lively eyes, smiled as Sander approached, recognition filling his features.

Sander punched him.

'Where the fuck have you been?' He snarled, cracking his knuckles. The impact had thrown the crewman to the floor, where he laid swearing and trying to regain his position.

'Sander, that's not the way we greet people,' Mara chided him. 'It's an open hand, not a closed fist. Also, a wave, I guess. Not a... Y'know,' She trailed off as Sander's penetrating gaze swung to her.

With one hand, Sander lifted the crewman to his feet and held him at arm's length, his jaw set in anger, 'Mara, Amy; I'd like to introduce you to Cohen Hackett. My dear older brother.'

'Hey there, babes,' Cohen grinned and tried to wave, causing Sander to tighten his grip and growl wordlessly. 'Okay, okay. Calm down, Sandy...' He said appealingly.

'Go fuck yourself, Coco,' Sander muttered, throwing his brother aside and stomping through the open door. 'You got a place to sit down on this thing? Because you have some fucking explaining to do, brother mine. Or some getting beaten to a bloody pulp. I don't really mind which.'

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

The Time Lord's feet rang out on the wood floor of Nirvana. Some small part of Rory hoped that someday he too could make such an everyday action as walking that dramatic.

Seemingly having found his target, the Doctor kicked out at the nearest door, barely slowing down at all as he stormed through the opening. Inside... Something was happening. Something alien. Rory couldn't be sure, but it was fairly likely there were two aliens in that singular, shuddering mass on the bed that sat in the centre of the floor. He couldn't be sure, he wasn't a xenophile.

'Right, get out!' The Doctor roared, pointing his sonic screwdriver at the alien mass as menacingly as possible. 'Now!'

'Excuse me, you can't just burst in here!' A familiar pink-haired alien said archly, stepping out from her position in the corner. 'This is a private facility!'

'You want to try and stop me?!' The Doctor growled, projecting pure menace in every word. The sonic device swung from alien to alien; it was actually quite impressive, for a bluff.

Rory skidded to a stop just inside the room, his vision blurring and his stomach heaving. He leaned heavily against the nearest wall, 'Ugh... Doctor, what-'

'Neurological Amplification Field, Rory,' The Doctor cut him off. 'You'll be a little sick for a while.'

'But not you, huh?'

The time traveller shot him a strange glance, 'Of course not. Why would I get sick?' He shook his head, 'Anyway, it's nice to meet you, Lysithea! We're wondering if you wouldn't mind helping us to locate a friend.'

The Trine-form's eyes widened, 'Oh, I see. You're him. And the other one,' Her eyes shifted to Rory.

'The other one?' Rory exclaimed, recovering from the effects of the Field.

'So you're here for Amy,' Lysithea said flatly. 'I'd tell you that as an employee of the Nirvana corporation I cannot divulge the private information of our clients, but I don't think you really care.'

'That's exactly right,' The Doctor nodded.

'You're going to cost me my job, you know,' Lysithea snapped. 'Aside from that, do you know how frightening you are to Sander? He's not going to just let you sweep in again.'

'So you know where he is?' Rory yelled. 'Please, we need to know!'

Lysithea shrugged, 'Such a moral quandary. Do I resist you to help Sander, a man that I actually like quite a bit? Or do I help you right away, even though you'll probably destroy his life again? This is the decision I have to make; Sander's life, or Amy's? Which is more valuable?'

Rory stormed forward, eyes burning, and grabbed Lysithea's collar, drawing his face close to hers, 'Amy! The answer is Amy!' He snarled.

Lysithea's hand clasped Rory's forearm, fingers gripping him with surprising strength. She peeled his fingers from her shirt with very little effort, and held him there, her bright grin never fading for even a second. Her eyes narrowed, and a chaotic storm of noise and light burst through Rory's head. He stumbled away.

'You are connected,' Lysithea smiled. 'If you want to find her, you're going to have to follow what remains of their psychic trail. Since you'll just force your way in anyway, I'll help you, though I want it noted that I'm doing so under duress. But you'll both have to interface with me, and that'll be... interesting. Are you sure you still want to do this?'

'I have to,' The Doctor said gravely. 'I won't abandon her.' He reached out and took Lysithea's hand.

The Trine-form hunched her shoulders and closed her eyes. In her tenure at Nirvana she had connected with any number of alien life forms, but none quite as old or... immense, as the Doctor. He was a legendary figure in many galactic circles, but even discounting that, he was a Time Lord. She wasn't entirely sure she could adequately prepare for taking him into her mind.

'Okay, we're up and running,' The Doctor said quietly. Then Lysithea smirked, focused her mind in a particular way- taking care to avoid too much contact with the Doctor's immense consciousness- and...

Both men doubled over, swaying from side to side. Their minds burned, Rory's probably worse than the Time Lord. Lysithea stood over them, her light, sunny smile returning.

'Sander is not a bad person, Doctor. Not necessarily a good one either, but not exactly evil. He's just been pushed too far,' She said. 'At least, that's what I believe. I've seen his mind, and he cares. Maybe too much for what he's doing. But we all do terrible things for love. You know that better than most, Time Lord Victorious,' She turned her back, eyes closing in concentration.

'You'll get the information you need. Just don't expect me to make it pleasant for you. Maybe this way you'll learn some interesting things too.'

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

'Sander, what's going on?' Mara said quietly. The three of them had been seated in what seemed to be the central area of the Oviroa, just off of the main freight passage. The long, stretching hallway outside the door rotated constantly as a way of generating enough centrifugal force to provide gravity, making travelling along it a fun little exercise.




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 10



Sander sat at one end of the large bank of seats that lined one wall, anger radiating off of him in waves. Mara felt that getting too close to him would make her skin blister.

'That bastard-' He began, before changing tack. 'Cohen, is my older brother. The one who should have inherited Hackett Industries from my father. We grew up in New Warsaw together; the guy was like my hero or something.'

'Then why the punching?' Mara asked, frowning. She'd never seen Sander this angry about something not related to the Doctor. The look didn't suit him.

'When I was thirteen, he disappeared,' Sander gave Mara a pointed look. 'Without a trace. One day he was there, the next he was gone. We all thought he was dead.' His expression had grown dour and it was clear that this was a painful memory for him. Still, something in what he was saying didn't make sense, and Mara was always one for rubbing salt into a wound.

'Okay. So why the punching?' She said emphatically.

Sander closed his eyes and buried his head in his hands, 'Think about it: Twenty years gone, absolutely no contact with his family in any way. If he had died, then it's a tragedy, but I get to keep my memories of my great older brother; the guy who always had my back. But he's alive, Mara. Which means he was running. If he was on the Oviroa all this time, that's even worse. Means he left us of his own accord.'

'That might not be it, though,' Amy said, getting drawn into the conversation despite herself. 'There might be some other reason why he left.'

Sander shook his head, 'No, he was running away; he never wanted the responsibility of running father's company. He just skipped town and... and left it to me... To Elsa and I.'

'Wait a minute,' Mara said, looking troubled. 'You knew Elsa when you were thirteen?'

'I was together with Elsa when I was thirteen. I know it's unlikely, but that's how it worked. I just got lucky.'

'Huh,' Mara said softly, pouting slightly. It didn't seem as if she was even aware of how... disappointed she looked, but Sander saw it clear as day. It was troubling.

'Anyway, that's the story,' Sander said darkly as Cohen re-entered the room, followed by a younger man who was grinning widely.

'I didn't know you were going to punch him, man,' The young man laughed. 'That was awesome!'

Sander nodded, 'It felt awesome. You'd be the voice on the radio, then?'

'Tsugi Nakatsukasa, at your service,' He bowed, but it was hard to tell whether he was being serious or not. 'The last in a long line of technicians working for this guy,' Tsugi jerked his thumb at Cohen.

'That's enough, Tsugi...' Cohen murmured.

'So, what the fuck, Cohen?' Sander leaned forward over the table in front of them as Cohen took a seat opposite. 'You disappear for years and now you're on the crew of the Oviroa? What's that all about?'

'Okay, first of all, no more punching, little brother. I don't endorse the punching,' Cohen said bitterly. 'Second, I'm not on the crew of the Oviroa. I am the Oviroa.'

'Well, that's very cryptic and all...' Mara began.

'He's been running this ship since the beginning,' Sander growled, staring daggers at Cohen. 'That's why he ran away from our family.'

'Yes,' Cohen nodded. 'I developed the Oviroa concept, started the legend. Mainly to see what would happen. All the crazy shit I've been able to do since then has... Well, that's just been gravy.'

'You selfish motherfucker,' Mara wound up, cracking her own knuckles.

'No, no, I've got this one, Mara. Thanks for having my back though,' Sander stood and took a deep breath, his fingers gripping the edge of the table tightly. 'You selfish motherfucker! Do you have any idea what you've done?' He snarled.

'I've been having fun, Sandy.'

Sander gasped, raised his fist. It shook, hovering in midair as Cohen flinched. Sander's teeth ground together as every muscle in his body tensed, ready to strike.

'You fucked everything up so badly that nobody in our family ever recovered, Cohen!' Sander sat back down, eyes still filled with an unhealthy amount of bloodlust. Mara's hand reached out to grip his under the table. He squeezed back tightly.

'Sounds a little dramatic to me, Sandy-'

'Hand to Christ, if you call me Sandy one more time I'll tear your spine out through the back of your neck,' Sander said in a single, explosive breath. 'We all thought you were dead, Cohen. Mom never recovered, and she was the only thing holding Dad back. You knew that before you left, and you did it anyway. He got worse when you left, and you know what happened when I took over from him.'

Cohen was silent for a moment, 'I did hear about that, yes.'

'I'm not stupid enough to claim complete justification for my actions, Cohen. I know that I did what I did, nobody else. But when you left, I didn't have the best of teachers, you know?' Sander said, seeming to have calmed down a little. 'How could you just leave us like that?'

'Dad was a psychopath, Sander, you know it as well as I do,' Cohen snapped. 'There's no way I was going to stick around and become the company's little puppet ruler. I know what that would've done to me.'

'So why didn't you take me with you?' Sander bellowed. 'Why did you leave me behind? I was thirteen, for fuck's sake! I needed my big brother there, and you bailed on me...'

Sander's anger failed him, and he simply stared emptily at the tabletop, shoulders shaking with what could have been rage, or sobs. Mara rose quickly, putting her arm around him and hugging him to her chest. She shot a dark, venomous gaze at Cohen.

'So let me get this straight: You didn't want to take control of Hackett Industries, so you ran away and left it to your little brother? Is that actually your justification for all this? You ran away because you were an irresponsible half-man who didn't want to grow the fuck up!'

'Who is this girl?' Cohen tilted his head to one side and gave an oily smile. 'I sort of like the look of her.'

'Sander, please don't tell me all the Hackett men are like this,' Mara said.

'There aren't any more Hackett men. Cohen and I, we're the last two.'

Cohen perked up, 'What do you mean?'

Sander closed his eyes, as he seemed to do when delivering unpleasant news, 'Vesperia fell. In the initial riots, Elsa died. Shortly thereafter, Mom was killed. Our sisters were killed. Every Hackett on the surface of the planet was killed... Except for me.' Sander trailed off into sullen silence. He felt his heart beating wildly; it had been a long time since he had been forced to relive all this, and he knew that Cohen would be judging him for it.

'What happened there, Sander?' Cohen said in a kinder voice than Sander was used to. 'All anyone knows is that the security drones inexplicably failed, and the citizens revolted. I'd just heard that you had died in the fighting, but here you are. What really happened to you?'

Sander felt the story pour out of him, like it was someone else using his tongue to relate the tale. The five of them sat, Amy, Cohen and Tsugi in complete silence as Sander relived his past. Everything came out; the Doctor, the thirteen year plot for revenge, capturing Amy... Even Theros. Once he had started, Sander found it hard to stop; he and Mara developed a bit of a dialogue, she adding bits and pieces of information wherever his recall failed him.

At the end, Cohen spent several moments in silence, as if marshalling his thoughts, 'I'm sorry, Sander. For everything. When I heard about Vesperia, I thought for sure they had killed you. If I'd known you were still alive, I'd... Everyone else is dead, huh? Then I don't want to waste any more time fighting. You're still family, Sander.'

'I know that,' Sander sighed. 'You're still my big brother, even if you are a completely self-absorbed asshole. I can't say that I forgive you yet, but I've been the last surviving Hackett for too fucking long. Besides, I think I can only sustain perpetual anger for one person at a time, and the Doctor has you beat there, Coco.'

Cohen grinned, 'Thanks, Sander. But if you call me Coco again, I will have you thrown off of my ship.'

'Hey, wait a minute...' Mara mused. 'I think we're forgetting something. This is the motherfucking Oviroa!'

'Yeah...' Sander said with a growing smile. 'My brother is the captain of the Oviroa...'

'Hell yeah I am,' Cohen crowed. 'You have to admit, this was a great idea, abandonment or no.'

'So, what? You've just been cruising around for twenty years, picking up people and-' Sander's gaze had been magnetically attracted to a corner of the room as he was talking. 'I'm sorry... Is that a full body medical scanner? In the dining area?'

Tsugi closed his eyes, 'This is the Oviroa. You'd be surprised how often people need medical attention here. Like, immediately. Usually it's just alcohol poisoning... Or, like, syphilis but when they pass out it's hard to tell without the scanner.'

There was a moment of speculative silence as everybody in the room got increasingly disgusted. While Tsugi was oblivious, everyone else immediately regretted that Sander had asked the question at all. It was like the whole ship had suddenly become coated with a thin, invisible layer of human filth. Amy made a conscious effort to come into contact with the least amount of surfaces as possible. Mara made a tiny "eww..." sound.

'I think I should take this opportunity to mention that the disinfection routines are entirely automated and also very frequent,' Cohen said dryly.

'Not frequent enough,' Mara squeaked. 'There is no possible way that they will ever, ever be frequent enough.'

'My ship be clean, Mara!' Cohen narrowed his eyes.

'Listen, I really doubt that,' Sander shrugged. 'But I don't care; what I want to know is this: What actually goes on here? No two people tell the same story.'

Cohen furrowed his brow, 'What do you want to do, brother? It really depends on the guest. Usually we get plastered and see where the ship takes us. Of course-' He slid closer to Mara. 'If there's women, that's where things get interesting. Except for Tsugi, since he's, well... He's something. I don't feel entirely safe saying gay, because-'

'Stop right there, Cohen,' Tsugi broke in. 'Let me be a mystery, alright? It's more fun that way.'

'And slide your stupid ass away from Mara,' Sander said, a steely note entering his voice.

'Yeah. I'd much rather be next to Tsugi, anyway...' Mara said, grinning wickedly.

'What's up, Sander? Is she yours, or something?' Cohen said.

'Well-' Sander began, and stopped as Mara laid a hand on his shoulder. Her eyes flashed intelligently, as though she was sizing Cohen up.

'Why, yes,' She began in a sultry voice. 'I am Sander's. Right, lover boy?' She poked him in the ribs with her elbow.

'Uh, yeah...' Sander said uncertainly, knowing that this was going to cost him later, but also not minding terribly.

'You can have Amy for a while, if you want...' Mara continued with her silvery voice. Amy's hands clenched into fists under the table.

Cohen leaned back in his chair and sighed, 'Yeah, I've been meaning to ask... Sander, do you know what you're doing?' He held up a hand as Sander began to reply, 'Don't answer that; of course you know what you're doing. But are you prepared for what comes next? If this Doctor fellah is half as scary as you think he is, then he's never going to stop looking for this girl. You barely got out of your last encounter with him unscathed, what do you think he's going to do to you this time?'

Sander frowned, but Mara piped up first, 'He didn't get out unscathed. His shoulder's all fucked up, and he almost died out there.' She said acidly.

'I'm sorry to hear that. Really, I am,' Cohen's eyes were full of concern. 'But this time you've crossed a line, Sander. The Doctor's going to put you through hell for this.'

Sander stood suddenly, the words tumbling out of him. It was like this conversation had lit a powder keg in his mind, and now it was going off.

'I've already been through hell!' He shouted, hands slamming down onto the table. 'None of you even know the half of it!' His eyes blazed as he crossed over to the medical scanner and stood behind the large, semitransparent blue screen. It lit up at his approach, overlaying a series of displays over the outline of his body. Immediately, several parts of Sander began flashing red to the beat of warning alarms.

'Let's itemize it all, shall we?' He growled, possessed by his anger. He pointed at his left eye, where the scanner was flashing particularly brightly, 'Left eye, practically burned out of my skull! Got hit with a laser cutter while trying to steal transportation offworld. This one's a mechanical replacement. Shoulder wound, that one almost killed me. A lot of the bone's missing, so I had it redone with metal plating and nanofiber musculature. Fun.'

He raised his right hand, where a section from his fingertips to halfway down his forearm blinked red, 'Right hand, wrist and arm; bones crushed beyond repair. It's really just a robotic framework under the flesh. Same with my left leg up to the knee. I did fall into enemy hands for a while, and though they didn't kill me right away, they weren't kind. That's also why all the ribs on my left side are metal struts. That's the truth, since you all seem so concerned about me,' He spat the final few words, looking away. 'I'm really just a fucking patchwork person.'

Frosty silence descended on the Oviroa, as the rest of the group stared wide eyed at Sander, who stared back, rapidly losing confidence and energy and becoming simply exhausted. Mara spoke first.

'Oh my god...' She said softly. 'You must be in so much pain...'

Sander chuckled bitterly, 'Ha! You're thinking of public cyborg implantation work; mine's privatised. Even deposed, there are plenty of places I could run to. The fact that I'm still alive is the product of the Sierra Medical Complex.'

'I did hear a rumour that you made it there from Vesperia. Apparently you were pretty beat up and died on the operating table,' Cohen said. 'But if you were on Sierra... Why go for robotics? You could have had genetic artificing, or a clone graft. You could have been good as new, but you went for the inferior option?'

'Right!' Sander nodded weakly. 'That's my point. I've been through hell. My eye, my arm, my leg... Every little twinge, every painful maintenance op or nanomachine injection... They're all reminders. My eye doesn't see so well, and my hand's not a military model, so the grip's been capped. Every time I'm inconvenienced by my mech parts I remember Vesperia. I remember that... That I couldn't protect the people I care about,' Sander's gaze shifted pointedly to Mara. 'I will never let that happen again. I've killed people to survive. It didn't suit me. But I'll kill the Doctor if I have to. Again and again, until he's out of spare lives.'

'This is all getting a little too heavy for me,' Cohen said in a strangled tone of voice. 'Sander, you're here now. It's a family fuckin' reunion. You're safe here. So is... ' Mara stared back at Cohen with a strained look. 'Uh, anyway, I say that we do the Oviroa thing. Everybody gets one, why should you guys be any different?'

Sander closed his eyes. He hadn't meant to bring the room down, but when his thoughts went down that path he had been like a boulder rolling downhill, and the whole sorry tale had come tumbling out. Now he just felt bad; in himself and for potentially spoiling Mara's one chance at the Oviroa. Although he felt like going home as fast as the shuttle would carry him, for Mara he would bottle it all up and try to be cheerful. He knew that he was only a few drinks away from true happiness anyway.

'Alright. We are in a special place,' He said with a grin he hoped looked genuine. 'Let's fuckin' do it!'

'There's my boy!' Mara said kindly. Her eyes lingered on him just a second too long, and Sander looked away.

'So, wait...' Cohen looked from Sander to Mara. 'Was she serious before? Do I get a whack at Amy?'

'Oh, this is going to be harder than I thought...' Sander sighed.

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

Sander sat on the stairs, listening to the sounds of the ship and trying his hardest to drain a bottle of mystery booze as quickly as possible. The sound of footsteps made him stare at the end of the corridor expectantly. He had gotten used to the sound of those particular footsteps.

He smiled gently, 'Mara...'

She rounded the corner, and when she caught sight of him she looked for all the world like a mother who has just discovered her child sporting a skinned knee; put-upon, but undeniably sympathetic. She crossed the room and laid her hands on his shoulders, lowering herself onto his lap so that her legs wrapped around his waist. Her forehead rested against his.

'Sander,' She whined. 'Why didn't you tell me how fucked up you were? I wouldn't have cared...'

'Oh, like you'd ever want to be with a weird cyborg like me,' Sander said. 'I didn't want to freak you out too much on Nirvana, and afterward... Well, it's in the past.'

'You really got put through the ringer, huh?' Mara said, stroking one hand through his hair.

'Yes. Looking back, I can't believe I didn't just drop dead before I even got into orbit,' Sander sighed. 'You know what the worst part was? When my drones went down, all the private research facilities on the planet opened up. All my employees died and a lot of weapons that were still in development were stolen. That's how the guys who caught me were able to pulp my bones without hurting the flesh; we were making this sonic device, sort of a fully weaponized sonic screwdriver ...'

'This isn't exactly the sexiest flirting I've ever heard, Sander...' Mara purred. It was important to her to take his mind off of the past. She kissed him, 'You know, this hasn't been the way I'd envisioned my trip to the Oviroa would go... And that's all because you were there. You and your damned issues,' She smiled. 'There has to be a way for you to make it up to me.'

'I think I could do that,' Sander said, spellbound. He hadn't noticed it right away, but seated like this Mara's skirt was spread wide, and certain parts of him were rubbing against certain parts of her that he was very interested in. 'Thankfully I didn't have to have any surgery on that part of my anatomy.'

Mara laughed, shook her head, 'See, there you go again! Pulped bones, implantation surgery... These aren't romantic phrases, Sander. We just had that lovely moment on Nirvana, I'm practically throwing myself at you and you can't stop talking about your bloody mech eye!' Mara hooked a finger into the front of her blouse, pulling it down to reveal a little more cleavage, 'You can see this all right, can't you?'

'I had a zoom function installed...' Sander admitted with an animal grin. Mara laughed hysterically, throwing back her head. Sander leaned in closer. 'Where's everyone else? I don't want to be interrupted.'

'Oh, Tsugi's sleeping off what will probably be a truly epic hangover. And I gave Amy to Cohen for a while. Figured he'd be distracted if I gave him a new toy; besides, he said that was a part of the Oviroa's rules. Fair trade: if you're a guest, you've got to provide something... information, supplies, even women. Cohen really likes to party, I guess.'

'Well, I suppose he'll be alright then. As for Amy... I almost went off the rails there, didn't I? Thirteen years in planning, and I lose my cool now?' Sander shook his head. 'No. We've both come too far.'

'That's the spirit, Hackett. Now come here... Don't make me force you,' Mara showed far too many gleaming white teeth. 'Although it almost seemed like you'd enjoyed that, last time we tried it.'




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 10



'I did,' He admitted. 'I really, really did. But none of that kinky shit right now. I just want you, as you are,' He hugged her close, biting at her neck. She moaned, her fingers tightening on his back.

'Right on!' She said breathlessly, then tilted her head to one side. 'Sander Hackett... My boyfriend...' She seemed to roll the words around in her mouth, testing them for quality. Sander simply gave a satisfied laugh and made her moan again.

To be continued...



Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 11



Author's Note: Hey, I kept to a release date this time! Good for me! Actually, this one is a little shorter than the others... Hmm...

As usual, my thanks go to Isabel, my love, my muse... And to the less floridly described but still rather excellent Allyourbase. I couldn't keep doing this without the two of them encouraging-and sometimes prodding- me forward. And by this point, even I want to know what's going to happen to Sander...

That makes it sound like I don't already know. Anyway, on with the show. Votes and comments are delicious to me, and I cherish every one, so please don't leave me hanging. Enjoy!

*

Now, they refused even to look at one another, the immortal and his one remaining human companion. Now, they could barely stand the feeling of being in the same room together.

The TARDIS was floating freely in space, spinning through the void with the doors open, Rory absently staring out into infinity. The Doctor sat against a railing at the centre of the control room, back to the human, staring at the opposite wall.

Both were waiting; the Doctor had found what he was looking for, connected with Lysithea. Now, the TARDIS was plotting a course based on the faint psychic link still remaining between the Trine-form and Amy's kidnappers. Of course, as is the way of such things, the trail was too old to follow immediately, and it would take some time before it could be reconstructed and followed.

And Lysithea had ensured that it was not the best time for the pair to be left alone with their thoughts.

Her last act of defiance; to link the two of them as strongly as she could, before pushing them both down the darker paths of the other's mind. She had caught them both at a moment of mental weakness; even the Doctor had been unaware that she could do that. And what they had found...

The Doctor had been largely unsurprised at what he had found in Rory's mind; the clawing, numbing fear for Amy's safety and the horrid anger burning in his heart. But then he had discovered that rich vein of jealousy, discovered that some part of Rory actually blamed him for what had happened to Amy. It hadn't sat well, and he was finding it incredibly hard to voice his discontent. Which was strange, given how much he usually liked to talk...

Rory's hands clenched into fists, hanging uselessly by his sides. The things he had seen... well, there was no secrets, anymore. What the Doctor had termed "distraction" was to Rory merely a betrayal.

It had been bad enough, sinking into the mind of a Time Lord and being dwarfed by the sheer immensity of every thought, every emotion, every memory and regret that the ancient alien had. It had been worse, being seared by the time vortex as it boiled through the Doctor's mind every second of every day.

But the worst by far had been Lysithea's forceful prod into the Doctor's deepest- and very definitely Amy-related- guilt.

Every screen in the TARDIS was still projecting video of Amy, currently on a ship that Rory didn't recognize, naked with her hands cuffed behind her back, getting manhandled by a complete stranger. Rory's fists gripped tighter.

Lysithea's probing malice had revealed to Rory the Doctor's growing, guilty lust as he watched Amy's plight. The fact that it made him uneasy didn't make it any better, especially when it came to light that he had stopped searching on Theros in order to relieve his desire. Every second he had wasted in that dingy club was a terrible betrayal.

Those memories had paraded past Rory; Amy kissing the Doctor in her bedroom- the act that had sparked the shift in how the Time Lord saw her- and the ideas in his mind of what he could do with her. To her... And the idea that she would reciprocate the moment he showed any interest.

Once again, Rory found himself in a tug of war over Amy's affections, even if it was just in his own head. Only this time, after seeing the Doctor's mind, he no longer felt like the better man.

Insecurity...

He had no idea how long it would take the TARDIS to locate the trail they needed, but one thing was absolutely certain:

The end couldn't come soon enough.

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

'So... Amy Pond,' Cohen said lightly, tilting his head to one side and regarding her appraisingly. She did not disappoint him. She may have been a slave, but that hardly mattered to him.

Amy looked warily at him, peering out from behind her ginger fringe. Cohen couldn't help but grin; even after twenty years, his brother had really come through for him. And that blonde woman who was with him... Damn. Sander might complain about how his life had turned out, but he'd spent the last few weeks travelling around the galaxy with two gorgeous women, so things hadn't turned out so bad for him. Cohen had met many people in his travels, and he'd seen lives turn out far worse than his brother's had. But none of that really mattered right now. All that mattered was that he was in his room with a beautiful redhead, and he could do whatever he wanted.

'You know...' He began, taking a seat on his bed and motioning for her to do likewise. 'I grew up hearing stories about you.'

Amy blinked,' What?'

'I lived on New Earth, Amy Pond,' Cohen said with a smile. 'New Earth, the second human capital world after the original was rendered uninhabitable. Sander and I were born in New Warsaw, but that was a part of the second British Empire regardless of what the name might indicate. My ancestors came to New Earth on the Starship U.K, Miss Pond. My childhood was full of legends passed down from my grandparents: the journey through the stars, the Beast Below... and the Immortal in the Blue Box, with his young redheaded companion from Scotland. There was never any name attached, but it's become increasingly likely that it was you the stories refer to, yes?'

'Yeah,' Amy admitted shakily. She was so, so far away from home... 'That was me.'

'Ah, this is wonderful!' Cohen applauded. 'A living legend! Of course, everyone in the British Empire has seen you: a few seconds of surveillance footage from the Starship U.K survived... But it doesn't do you justice, Amy. You're much more appealing in the... flesh,' His eyes flashed with some dark indefinable desire that made Amy shrink away.

'What are you going to do to me?' She asked in a vague, resigned voice. The twang of fear ran through her words, and a shiver went down Cohen's spine. Her vulnerability was so appealing; this would be fun.

'Everything my brother has done, I expect. Of course, my time with you will regrettably be shorter than his, so I'll have to make do with quality over quantity.'

'I doubt you could do everything,' Amy said with bitter petulance. 'You don't have the equipment,' Her mind slipped back to the early days of her captivity; of the Arclight system specifically, and the terrible suffering it had caused her. The utter hopelessness of her situation could be so overwhelming sometimes.

'Ah, yes. Sander mentioned. You three went to Nirvana, yes?' Cohen leaned forward. 'How was that?'

Amy swayed on her feet at the memory, lips pursing, 'Um... Intense.'

'I've never been, myself. Although I've always wanted to. But I digress,' Cohen sighed. 'I expect that you'll find what comes next to be... unpleasant.'

'Oh, really?' Amy found the angry sarcasm spilling out of her. 'Was your first clue the collar? Because I've always found it to be a dead giveaway.'

'I'm a Hackett man, Amy,' Cohen said. 'We're bred for amorality. Sander's living proof of that,' His eyes grew cold. 'I don't intend to abuse that Command Collar of yours, provided you can be a good girl for me in return. Can you do that, Amy?'

Something in her snapped. Amy became aware of some vast internal pressure that had been building in her heart for days now with each new humiliation, and the condescending words of this new tormentor had made it explode in a torrent of fire through her mind. Her eyes burned.

'I'm not your fucking plaything, Cohen!' She yelled, immediately regretting it as his eyes narrowed. Cohen leaned back, putting all his weight on his hands, a tiny smile playing at his lips. He looked so much like Sander, just a little further into the future. And maybe a bit more grizzled and unshaven.

'Take off your clothes, Amy,' He said slowly, testing her for a reaction. She stood tall and unmoving, defiantly staring down her potential attacker, for what good it did. She knew that it was pointless, that Cohen was entirely capable of physically forcing her to submit, but damned if she was going to go down without a fight. She was tired of acquiescence, she had to do something, no matter how futile.

Cohen stared, entirely aware of the new edge to Amy's stance. She was in a fighting mood, was she? Cohen didn't know if she had always been like this, if Sander had dealt with this same fiery resistance, but it suited him perfectly well. There was enjoyment to be gained from the struggle, from stripping away her power, what little of it was left. He so rarely got to enjoy moments like this...

'Fine then. If that's the way you'd like to play this; Command: Take off your clothes, Amy.' Cohen shrugged. He knew he'd told her he wouldn't use the Collar, but he could lie, just this once. He liked a little fight, but he'd so hate to damage clothes that Sander had paid for. They looked so nice, anyway, and since Mara had altered the programming on the Collar to give him a provisional access license, it would have been a shame not to use it once and see that helpless despair in her eyes.

Amy moaned sadly as her skirt pooled around her ankles, the expensive fabric sliding smoothly over her skin. She would never admit it, but she really did like most of the clothes that Sander and Mara provided for her; in another place she might have bought them for herself. Such a pity... Right now all they meant was that humiliation was pending.

Cohen's eyes scanned every inch of Amy's body as she stripped, hungrily devouring every flash of pale skin or bouncing flesh. She really was a piece of work...

Cohen stood as Amy stood naked before him, going from a seated position to upright seemingly without any transitional period between the two. Amy shrank away from the suddenness of the movement, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. This was hardly surprising; she was alone with a stranger, and completely naked. And Cohen was grinning like a maniac.

'I'm not going to use that Collar anymore, Amy,' He said hoarsely. 'But the door's locked. No escape, and if you want to fight, be prepared to lose.'

Suddenly her back was against the wall. She hadn't realized it, but she had been retreating from him. She felt her features twist in anger; so, he was giving her the opportunity to fight back, was he? Fine by her.

In the back of her mind she knew that any resistance would be worthless; even if she could somehow subdue the larger man, she still had that Collar around her neck, she was still trapped onboard a strange ship floating in deep space, she still had Sander, Mara and Tsugi to contend with. But with the wrath burning in her veins, with every torment vivid in her mind, and with utter dread boring a hole in her stomach, Amy knew that she would fight.

Cohen swayed away from her first misaimed blow, grabbing her wrist and pulling her forward, using her own weight to send her sprawling to the bed on her stomach. She struggled desperately, growling as viciously as she knew how. But his weight was on her now, and he had pinned both her wrists in the small of her back, pinioning her arms painfully. She felt something soft and pliant slip around first one wrist, then the other. Her arms would no longer move; chained down again!

'I borrowed these from Mara,' Cohen said, stroking one hand down the soft skin of her back, making her buck at the intrusive touch. 'She just carries them with her, I guess. Chambered up and ready to go... Sander's a lucky man. Although I sort of wonder who she was expecting to tie up on my ship.'

'Bastard!' Amy snarled, trying unsuccessfully to dislodge his grip on her. He slapped her ass hard across both cheeks, making her cry out and fall still, teeth grinding together as hot tears fell from her eyes. A feeling of abject powerlessness washed over her and drained right into her soul, but instead of quenching the rebellious fires within it made them flare and glow brighter. Her mind filled with white hot undirected rage at the universe, and black hatred at the man behind her. She bucked again, some deep well of strength actually allowing her to throw Cohen off balance.

He swayed up off of the bed as Amy's back shunted him aside and she drew up to her full height; the effect was negated by her hands being tied behind her, and the simple fact that a beautiful naked woman is rarely frightening, no matter how angry she is.

'Love the fire, Amy. I really do,' Cohen grinned, wavering from side to side. He ducked low, one hand gripping Amy's shoulder as the other swept down into the crook of her knees, lifting her up into a kicking, screaming bundle and dumping her back onto the bed. His fingers wound into her hair, pressing her face into the bed sheets, as his free hand pressed down on her back, just above her bottom to hold her hips still.

'I wonder where I should take you,' Cohen said in a low, deep voice. His fingers slid up to plunge inside her, 'In your pussy? Or-' He pressed her face more firmly into the bed, 'Your mouth? No... too much temptation to bite, as disturbed as you are now. Maybe I should just aim for a much tighter place...' As his fingers continued their stimulation, he ground his crotch against the curve of her ass suggestively.

'What do you think, Amy? Where do you want me to fuck you?'

Amy squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her thighs together, trying to dislodge Cohen's invasive fingers. Against her will, her insides began to heat up and liquefy, her flesh trembling and becoming pliant. She bit back a moan, trying in vain to push away the growing, terrible arousal. Not now...

'Stop t-that, you bastard!' She groaned despairingly, burying her face in the sheets. His hand tightened in her hair, enjoying the sight of the auburn tresses twisting in his grip.

'No no, that's not how this works, Amy,' Cohen growled. 'You have to tell me where you want it before I'll stop. Just let me know how I stick it to you, and we can move on...'

'M-my pussy!' She said quickly, the words tumbling out before her mind had a chance to catch up. She knew what he wanted, knew she had to give it to him. 'Please... Please fuck my pussy... Uh!'

There was no right choice here, only varying degrees of repulsion. Amy knew that she couldn't bear getting raped in the ass again, and the thought of taking Cohen in her mouth was so vile it didn't even bear mentioning. No right choice, only the least objectionable.

'That's a good girl...' Cohen said, petting her hair as though she were some sort of pet. 'And a good choice!' He clapped his hands together, removing the pressure that had pinned Amy down. She didn't move. What would be the point? The resolve to escape was back again, stronger than ever; it was just better to wait for the right moment.

The Doctor would expect nothing less.

Amy jerked, a shiver running down her spine as she felt a tongue run the length of her slit. She looked over her shoulder, seeing Cohen's obscenely grinning face crest the curve of her upturned bottom.

'It'd be too easy just to take you right now,' He said. 'But Mara likes to talk, and she told me some things. I want to make you enjoy this, Amy Pond,' His eyes narrowed lustfully. 'But you ask permission before you cum, understand? If you don't, you will be punished. Severely.'

Amy shuddered in disgust; the word "punishment" still carrying some awful connotations. She didn't know what Cohen meant by the word, and that was frightening, but what was worse was that Mara was around too. And Amy knew exactly what that word conjured in her mind...

'I understand,' She whimpered, dropping her head low. She hoped that it wouldn't come to that, but her body had a habit of betraying her at crucial moments, it seemed.

Wordlessly, Cohen went back to work, tonguing relentlessly as Amy's vulnerable honey pot. She moaned plaintively, a long drawn out whine of defeat that seemed to fill the room for several moments. Electricity crackled up and down her spine and it became harder to think, even to be repulsed by what was happening to her as Cohen's talented tongue drove inside her. So this is what twenty years of perpetual wanderlust and hedonism would do to a person.

Amy clenched her jaw tighter, desperate not to cry out or give Cohen any encouragement. His tongue lapped against her delicate core, sending spasms through her muscles and driving out every resistant thought. Her hands curled into fists, wrists shaking in her cuffs, wanting nothing more than to strike out and push Cohen away. She was helpless; her hips held in Cohen's tight grip, her legs weak and no longer able to support her weight. Her feet slid out from under her, bearing her entire body down onto the bed. She felt Cohen give a throaty chuckle as his tongue circled her rapidly engorging clit.

Cohen grinned to himself as he tasted the first drops of Amy's sweet syrup. He could hear her breath fluttering in her throat, and he could only imagine the conflicted expression on her cute little face. Her juices were flowing freely now, spilling down her thighs and his chin to the beat of the tiny, shuddering bucking of her hips. She whimpered, just once, but the sound was so helpless and wonderful that Cohen had to physically stop himself from taking her right there.

The pressure was building, like water behind the bulkhead of a sinking ship. Amy could feel herself succumbing to it, felt in boiling in her gut, demanding all her attention. She struggled against the cuffs that held her, arms and shoulders shaking desperately, as though it would do any good. Another scorching wave of pleasure stretched to the horizon of her mind. That sinking ship metaphor was only too apt...

Amy could feel her orgasm coming, as though from a long way away. It was roiling, like a thunderstorm, in every nerve ending she had. She fought, tried as hard as she could to push it away, but it was inevitable. He would punish her if she just let it come; she couldn't stand by and let that happen. Shame coloured her cheeks as she thought of the alternative, but then, this was a bad situation all round.

Now, what would be the best way to appease this son of a bitch?

'Please... Sir, please may I cum?' She said in a delicate, wavering voice. As hard as she tried to disconnect from the words and distance herself from what she was feeling, the body was a hard anchor to shrug off. It pulled her back down into it, into the shame and the heat. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead as she buried her head into the bed.

Cohen froze, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. He could feel the old animal stirring in his heart, slavering at Amy's vulnerability and powerlessness. It knew what it wanted.

'No, you may not,' He said smoothly, getting to his feet. Both hands stroked up her thighs to grip her hips, holding her in place. Amy didn't move, even when she heard his zipper descending, or felt his heat nestling in the moist folds of her labia. Her eyes closed in an attempt to push down the shame and arousal currently racing through her.

The whole exchange had only taken a few seconds, and when Cohen plunged inside of her she had no chance of recovering from the edge of climax. The sudden feeling of fullness almost tipped her into the abyss, but with a great, wrenching effort she was able to stop herself, a strangled, frustrated whine ripping itself from her throat. Cohen's eyes widened as he felt her walls pulse around him.




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 11



'Now, don't you cum until I say so, Amy,' He sang lightly, pushing himself slowly deeper inside her. 'You be sure to ask before you do.'

Amy squirmed beneath him as he screwed her, the heat building higher in the pit of her stomach. She was so close, it was impossible to think about anything else but the violent, desperate need to cum. And he was inside her, pushing in as deeply as possible before withdrawing, his dick scraping against her insides with such terrible friction. To her eternal shame, she began to moan pathetically, all her attentions on denying herself release.

'Oh, god!' She groaned sadly, jerking her hips against Cohen's invading length, her pussy spasming and clamping down hard over him. She had almost lost it, 'Please, Cohen... Uh! Please let me cum!' She shuddered.

'Not yet, slut,' He grunted in response. 'A little longer...'

It was almost painful, attempting to keep the frothing tide of climax at bay, but Amy gave it her best shot. Her legs trembled constantly, muscles tightening with the desperate effort of stopping her orgasm. Her juices coated Cohen's cock and dripped onto the steel floor with a faint, wet noise. Her heartbeat pounded, every muscle tight and shuddering.

Time lost all meaning. It could have been an hour she had spent digging her heels in on the edge of a precipice she so desperately wanted to leap from. It could have been just a few minutes, with Cohen's slow, torturous fucking the only persistent element. She couldn't take it...

'Cohen! Please...'

'Just say it, Amy,' Cohen grunted. 'Beg me.'

'Please, I need to cum!' She groaned with the effort, the thunderous climax building in every cell of her body. 'Please sir, let me cum!'

Cohen grinned, 'You may, Amy. Cum for me.'

She tensed, like she had been hit by some intense physical force, eyes screwed closed and mouth open in a deafening scream. The floodgates had burst open only seconds after Cohen had finished speaking, her release blasting through her. Her back arched as the tide of ecstasy swept over her vulnerable form, pulsing through her to the rhythm of Cohen's fevered thrusts. Her pussy twisted and clamped down tight on his cock, and he groaned his appreciation.

Her orgasm left Amy a twitching mess, lying limp on the bed as Cohen continued to fuck her. Being denied release always made its eventual arrival all the more intense, and Cohen had enjoyed riding her as she herself rode out the storm. But he wasn't done yet: he pulled out, his member glistening in Amy's wetness, and pulled her onto her still shaking knees.

His hands twisted in her hair, pulling her head down onto his dick. She struggled as much as she could, but Amy was still recovering from her climax, and every muscle was tender and weak. Cohen's length pressed against her lips, sliding easily into her mouth. Amy's nose wrinkled at the combined taste of his cock and her own cunt, and she gagged as he drove himself as deeply as possible. He came deep down her throat, his seed dripping out faster than she could swallow. It flooded her mouth, leaking from her lips onto her chin. She swallowed one final time, disgust written on her angelic features.

'And that's how we pay for passage aboard the Oviroa,' Cohen said garrulously. 'Thank you for that, Amy. It's not often that you get a chance to fuck a legend.'

'Untie me,' Amy said in a low, flat voice. It was practically a command, but she was beyond caring. Cohen had gotten what he wanted, there was no reason to continue this game.

He helped her to her feet and slipped behind her, undoing the cuffs. Amy focussed her cold gaze on the opposite wall, practically boring a hole in it with the intensity of her anger. She was almost vibrating with it, violent thoughts burning through her mind. All the humiliation, all the pain, and the fear, and the anger had ignited.

One thing was certain: She would escape.

To be continued...



Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 12



Author's Note: Hello folks! Here's the next chapter, as the story winds down and we get closer to the end. In fact, chapter thirteen? It's the last one! Sort of! You'll see, just please be sure to join us for that!

Anyway, thanks again to my wonderful helpers, Isabel and Allyourbase. Votes, comments and feedback are really, really appreciated, especially at this juncture. Enjoy the chapter, folks!

*

'Hey Mara?'

'Sander, quiet. You're ruining my afterglow.'

'Okay...'

The sounds of the ship pervaded in the silence that followed; the myriad tiny clicks and mechanical hums. The sounds of motion. Mara had her eyes closed, but even in the midst of a close embrace with a beautiful woman, Sander shifted in agitation. He had the notion that he should be doing something here.

'Mara, I'm bored,' He rolled his eyes. 'Talk to me.'

'Oh, come on, Hackett! You can entertain yourself while I bask, surely!'

Again, the sounds of space travel. Mara stretched languorously as Sander toyed with the buttons on his shirt. His mouth opened and closed, to see if he could make words come out. He had nothing to say, just the vague apprehension that words were needed here. His mind picked a thought, ferried it along to his vocal chords.

'You know, we don't often get time alone like this,' He said slowly. 'This might be the last chance we have for a while. When we get back to the lab, we'll be watching Amy, watching out for the Doctor... It'll be nothing but work.'

Mara chuckled, 'Alright, you dog,' She rolled over to face him. 'We can go again, if you're dead set on it. Come here.'

'No, no, the cannon is out of ammo right now,' Sander shook his head. 'As appealing as that sounds. Actually, what I was thinking is that I know next to nothing about you, Mara. We should rectify that.'

'You already know my troubled past, what more do you want?' She waved her hands dramatically.

'God, I don't know... Hey, do you have any family? Do I have to watch out for any brothers on your end?' Sander asked.

Mara tilted her head to one side and stared, 'Hmm... Family, huh? Let's see... Mother's dead. Father drove her there, but he's been gone since I was a kid. I have an older sister who's like me, and a younger sister who isn't. You'd like both, but for different reasons.'

Sander raised a quizzical eyebrow, 'Like you? What does that entail?'

'She's confident, brash and charming, and also aggressively sexual.'

Sander paused for a moment, then said, 'You have a very good handle on yourself, don't you?'

'Yes.' Mara nodded firmly. 'I do. What about you, Hackett? You said you were the last one?'

Sander shifted his weight uncomfortably, 'Yeah. Dad died three months after moving the entire family to Vesperia. As the eldest Hackett son, I took over the company, and we all know how well that went. During that whole thing, Mom and my three sisters were killed,' He sighed deeply. 'The Hackett clan has always been big, but that just meant a larger pile of corpses, I guess...'

'Sorry, Hackett,' Mara said softly. 'I didn't mean to bring the mood down and shit. My bad, sweetheart.'

Sander narrowed his eyes, 'Perfectly fine, darling.' His voice dripped sarcasm. Immediately, Mara gasped, her eyes flicked up to his and she pouted.

'Hey! I meant what I said!'

It was like all the movement had been sucked out of him. Uh oh...

Slowly, a grin spread across Mara's face as she watched Sander grow progressively more horrified and uncomfortable, 'You are so, so easy to play, Hackett. It's like fooling a six year old!'

Sander laughed. Part of it was genuine amusement, but mostly it was relief; he had never done well with pouting, tearful women. But that wasn't exactly true, was it? What with Amy...

He forced the thought away. It didn't bear thinking about, not now. Strange that those thoughts kept sneaking up on him, like his nerve was periodically deserting him. Part of that had to be his time fused with Amy's mind back on Nirvana; these days he felt like a walking example of cognitive dissonance most of the time. But another part was Mara, and... Well, maybe he should just say it...

'Mara,' He began shakily. It had been a while since he'd had to express this, 'I-'

'Stop!' Mara held up a finger. 'Don't say it!'

'Why not? I feel it.' He grinned nervously.

'Well, that's good. But I'm not prepared to hear it, and before you ask why: One, we're in your brother's fucking love nest, and two: I've still got Walker on my mind,' Mara's gaze was on him, but Sander had no idea what she was thinking.

'Oh, well hey, I know that most men want to hear that from a girl just after sex; that they're still thinking about their ex,' Sander deadpanned. 'That's just awesome.'

'Funny!' Mara could make applause sound somehow sarcastic. It was a skill, 'You know I didn't mean it like that.'

She stood up and leaned against the wall, the physical distance making Sander feel somehow bereft. He frowned, 'Hey, hang on then; what did you mean? You're thinking of Walker: Why?'

'The same reason you're full of metal and not clone parts,' Mara sighed. 'Keeps me vigilant. You'll have to forgive me if I'm still holding something back.' Sander started to say something, but Mara held up a hand, 'No, don't speak. You aren't going to change my mind right now. Just get up, Hackett. We should be going before we wear out our welcome and Amy gets too sore.'

'Alright...' Sander said, with that persistent frown. As he stood, Mara tutted and rolled her eyes, placing a hand on his shoulder.

'Now, Hackett,' She chided. 'Brighten up, okay? Just think; we'll be home soon, and then... Well, we'll just have to think of something to do, won't we?'

'Mara, exactly how much of your universe is about sex?' Sander asked quietly.

'Sander,' She smiled. 'Everything, everywhere is about sex, when you go deep enough. I'm just being honest.'

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

'Well, Cohen, it's been... something,' Sander shrugged, leaning against the edge of the airlock.

'Fun?' Cohen suggested.

'No, that's not it,' Sander shook his head.

'Hey, I don't know what you did to Amy, but she seems pissed,' Mara poked her head around the doorframe. 'How'd you do it?'

Cohen grinned and shrugged, 'Oh, you know...'

Confusion flitted across Mara's features, 'No, I don't. That's why I asked.'

'Drop it, Mara,' Sander sighed. 'That smile means he's not talking. You know, he hasn't changed all that much since we were kids. That's a little sad.'

'Hell no; I was awesome then, and I'm awesome now,' Cohen gestured extravagantly, smile only getting brighter.

Mara nudged Sander, 'Is he...?'

'Joking?' Sander said, 'I can never tell. Probably not.'

'Well that's just swell,' Mara sighed. 'Anyway, I'm getting bored. Let's go see some stars, Sander.' She clapped him on the shoulder and disappeared back into the depths of the shuttle.

'Her wish is my command,' Sander shrugged. 'Time to go. Listen, Cohen...'

'Yes, I'll keep in contact,' He nodded. 'Y'know, I can't think why I didn't try before. I guess I just forgot, and then you'd apparently died...' He shrugged, 'Oh well.'

'You flippant bastard...' Sander shook his head. 'Just be sure you do, Coco. I'm tired of being the last scion of the house of Hackett,' He waved his hands vaguely. 'Just let me know that I still have a brother out there occasionally, okay?'

'Gotcha. I'll see you around, little brother.'

Sander nodded sagely, hand groping for the handle to the airlock. It rolled closed with a sonorous clang that filled up the confines of the shuttle. Sander leaned against the heavy steel door for a moment, staring off into the middle distance.

'Huh,' He mused. 'That was informative... I'm not alone anymore. Weird.'

'What's up?' Mara called from the pilot's seat. 'I would've thought you'd be a little happier, even if Cohen is an asinine little twerp sometimes.'

'I dunno,' Sander chuckled. 'I've been cultivating my lonely anger for quite a while. It's sort of defined me, Y'know?'

'Well then find a more internally satisfying definition,' Mara said without looking up from her console. 'Because there's something terribly pretentious about what you just said.'

Sander shook his head with a smile, 'Ah, Mara... You always know exactly what to say. Are we ready to break dock? I'm feeling a little homesick. What do you think, Amy?' Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to prod her; she had an expression like a thundercloud, if it were possible for a thundercloud to look like it wanted to beat someone to death with a sack of doorknobs.

Amy shot him a poisonous glare, 'Oh, you don't want to know what I think,' She said in a low voice.

'Probably not...' Sander conceded. 'Anyway, let's go! Space anchors away, or whatever!'

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

Space travel was boring. Oh, it might be interesting, to someone who had never done it before, but to seasoned travellers like Sander, it was the same as riding a bus, just at far higher speeds. The truth was, after atmospheric exit and before re-entry there was really nothing to do. Just endless expanses of complete vacuum with the occasional celestial body to break the monotony. The universe could be breathtakingly beautiful, but most of it wasn't. Most of it was just absent.

Sander grinned when he got his first view of Carcer. He hadn't realized it, but the Oviroa had been drifting at quite a good clip, and it had been doing so in exactly the opposite direction. The upshot of this was that it extended flight time in Faster Than Light mode by a good three hours. In that time, there had been nothing to do but talk to Mara and get glared at by Amy. Often simultaneously. Still, they had gotten by, but when the shuttle finally docked on the asteroid's landing pad, Sander jumped at the chance to rise from his seat and stretch his legs.

'Okay, we're here!' Mara clapped her hands together. 'There's already a remote link established; thank you Hackett Industries and your wonderful narrow-band FTL comm. links!'

'Neat,' Sander nodded. 'Reactivate the power to the base, then just flood the thing with air; I can reassert the hard locks and air fields properly once I get inside.'

'Already doing it. I had no intention of walking into a pitch-black vacuum,' Mara glanced pointedly at Sander. 'It's the same reason I didn't open the airlock in midflight just now.'

'Okay, fair enough,' Sander hissed, rocking slightly on his heels as the air flooding into the base thudded against the airlock door. 'That was a little fast, though. Make sure you don't break anything important in there, all right?'

'Do you understand how boring it would be to wait here while the air fills in normally?' Mara was suddenly at the airlock, rolling the heavy door aside without any apparent effort. 'I won't live forever, Sander. Well anyway, since we're not suffocating, I'd suggest that the air's back and the base is operational. So I'll take Amy back to her cell, and you go make sure everything's working okay, yes?'

'Sure.'

'Oh, and when you're done, you go hang out in your room. I'll be joining you there.'

'Yes, okay.'

Mara looked over her shoulder and winked at him, 'Amy!' She called, voice hard. Amy grunted her assent and got up, never once looking either of her captors in the eye. The two of them disappeared into the depths of the base, leaving Sander to stare at their rapidly retreating backs.

'Huh,' His brow furrowed. What, exactly, had he done in his thirty three years of life to incur such incredible good fortune? To have someone like her flitting through his life... It was truly staggering. He grinned widely, his footsteps echoing sharply on the steel floor as he rapidly sped up; no point in standing here all stunned. There was work to do.

A quick trip to the control room was all it took to ascertain that his base was still working just fine, even if it had been without air and power for a few days. Adjusting the power levels and ensuring that the air didn't leak out into the void was child's play, and Sander gave a little sigh. He hadn't had a job that befitted his intellect since developing the time displacement device several years ago. He felt like a maintenance man in his own evil lair. One thing he did do was throw together some code for an augmented reality program to work with the surveillance equipment; he needed the rooms here to look different if he was going to keep transmitting everything that happened to the Doctor. He had almost forgotten that his foe had been here during their flight, and he would remember what everything looked like. He had to stay one step ahead; it was a good thing that everything in the base was a uniform colour. Made it easier to project stuff onto it.

Sander grinned to himself; creating a program like this would take a few hours at least for anyone else. But he was Sander Hackett. The Doctor didn't know who he was dealing with.

He practically skipped back to his room, whistling an absurdly happy tune. The sun never rose in a second-hand orbit like this one, but despite this everything just seemed brighter somehow. The shadows in the corners of the room fell away as though they were never there at all; the depressing miasma had lifted. Sander had never realized just how stifling it was, living entirely within the sterile confines of an airtight mechanical nightmare.

The door slid open, and there was Mara, sitting demurely- or as demurely as Mara could- on the edge of his bed. A sly smile crept across her face, and her eyes glittered enticingly. Her head tilted to one side, long hair flowing around her in an almost luminous halo.

'Uhm, hi there,' She purred, smile growing wider. When her teeth interlocked like that, she really did look predatory, like she was getting ready to devour him whole. Sander didn't think he'd mind that at all.

'Yo,' He grinned, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

'Yeah, that's in keeping with the mood...' Mara muttered, casting a flat gaze around the room. She stood, tall and beautiful, and motioned to him, 'Sander, come to me...'

'I could do that...' Sander breathed, spellbound. It seemed effortless, but Mara was projecting some sort of field of pure attraction. 'You're beautiful,' He whispered, his arms encircling her.

'I know,' She nodded slyly, closing her eyes and leaning into him. They kissed, just once, the action filling the two of them with liquid heat. Mara toppled backward onto the bed, her firm grip sending Sander tumbling after her, on top of her. 'What do you want to do?'

'Could think of a few things,' Sander said unsteadily. Of course there were the obvious choices, the go-to decisions of any man presented with a woman of Mara's calibre, but he wanted something more. Ever since that night back in Shangri-La where she had meted out such vicious punishment, he had wanted to return to her heart of darkness, and meet that fiery princess that had exploded out from deep within her once again. He wanted to burn in her wrath, just to see if it'd feel the same in the light of day.

But he found himself at a loss as to how to ask for that. There was very little doubt in Sander's mind that if he asked, she would deliver in spades, but was it asking too much? Was it revealing just a little too much about himself? He was still so unsure as to what it had all meant himself...

If nothing else, he was a moth to her flame.

'I'd like...' He began, trailing off nervously. He glanced away from her, and she grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back into her azure stare.

'What would you like, my Sander?' She breathed, the sound almost non-existent. 'You know you can tell me.'

His eyes darted the length of the room, and he was sure he was blushing. Embarrassment coloured his features, 'I'd like to play with Dark Mara again, if we're being totally honest.'

Mara's eyes narrowed. She pushed all her weight into the hand still on his shoulder, flipping him over with little resistance and leaping up to straddle him. Her face drew in closer, a tiny amused smile cresting her perfect lips, 'Dark Mara?' She said with a laugh, 'What's that? What are you talking about?'

Sander smiled helplessly, feeling himself flush even hotter, 'You know... Back on Theros. When you went berserk and punished the shit out of Amy. That was something else, Mara... I liked it.'

'Ooh...' Mara was nodding her head in acknowledgement. 'Dark Mara, huh? That's what you've been calling it. Well, you'd better stop, because there's nothing particularly dark about all that. That's just me, Sander dearest. Trust me on that.'

'Sorry...'

'And you only have to ask,' She smiled tenderly. 'I'd like to deliver the full experience for you, Sander. You have only to ask, and I'll get the engine revving, kiddo.'

'Kiddo?'

She leapt to her feet and, shaking herself and bouncing from foot to foot, went to the door, 'Just sit tight, Hackett. I just need to grab some things.'

'I'm two years older than you,' Sander mumbled as the door closed behind her. It opened again, and Mara's head poked back through the opening.

'You had the most hangdog fuckin' look on your face. You must have been really embarrassed to ask me to play with you,' She grinned toothily. 'That's so cute!'

The door slid closed again before Sander had time to respond. He waited, practically motionless, mind awash with anticipation and anxiety. He had set something in motion, and despite not knowing what would happen, he would have to ride it out. Still, there were worse ways to spend your time...

When the door slid open again, Mara was standing in the frame, a wicked smile emblazoned on her pale features. She chuckled.

'I'm back,' She said, throwing a small canvas bag into one corner of the room. 'Stand up, Hackett. This whole thing is about to go off.'

'Alright...' Sander shrugged, getting to his feet. His eyebrow arched as Amy was dragged into the room by the hand. 'Her too?'

'Oh, come on!' Mara laughed. 'Would it really be a party without dear old Amy here? In this case, three is not a crowd; it's been a while since I've done this properly with three people.'

'No, hey,' Sander placated. 'You know what you're doing.'

'I do. Y'know, it's funny; I let you pick what we do, and you use that opportunity to put me in the driver's seat. You're an interesting guy, Sander,' She smiled. 'I hope I don't disappoint.'

'Everything you say sounds sarcastic,' Sander said.

Mara chuckled, 'Well, there's a reason for that. Now shut up; I need to get into character.'

Her eyes closed slowly as her head tilted skyward. Under Sander's expectant stare, she took a deep breath, her shoulders loosening and her whole body swaying on the spot. For that single, shining moment, she looked impossibly serene. Her head tilted back down.

'Alright...' She sighed deeply. Her eyes flicked open, finding Sander's in seconds. A thrill of excitement went through him; he could see that familiar fire burning away in her sparkling eyes. But it wasn't an uncontained blaze like the last time; it was focused right at him. Mara grinned wolfishly, her posture wonderfully languid and relaxed.

'Okay, Sander, it's go time,' She said roughly. 'You sure this is what you wanna do? Because once I start, I don't know if I'm gonna be able to stop.'

Sander stared, his insides squirming. He knew exactly what he wanted, and it was her. Just as she was; lit from within with this strange, attractive energy, 'Hell yeah.' He said drily.

'Fun...' Mara growled, drawing the word out for several seconds. She moved lithely, sidling over to Sander and pulling him down into a hard, smothering kiss. Sander felt himself tense up as she pushed herself against him before breaking the kiss and laying her head on his shoulder.




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 12



'Ah, that's the stuff...' She sighed wistfully. When her eyes lifted to meet his, they burned coldly, 'Are you ready, Sander?'

She slipped away from him, fingers lingering on his chest for as long as possible. With long, light strides Mara made her way to the bag she had brought with her, producing an item that made Amy's eyes widen and a tiny, helpless whimper escape her throat.

'Okay, so we all remember this, right?' Mara drawled in a voice like silk-wrapped steel, swishing the black crop through the air in a speculative manner. 'So we all know where this is going. Isn't it nice when we all know the general direction of events before they happen? But I don't think we need any more banter. Sander, take off Amy's clothes.'

'What?' Sander and Amy asked in unison.

Mara shook her head, 'I don't actually have to explain myself right now. We're merely establishing the totem pole, and our positions therein. And Sander, don't you want to strip her down to nothing?'

'I really do...' Sander grunted, his fingers flexing as he stepped closer to Amy. She flushed red; the way his hands brushed against her chest as he unbuttoned her shirt, the firmly possessive way he encircled her hips as he pulled down her skirt... Even the vague, slow-moving show he was putting on for Mara; she was being treated like some damn toy again. The rage rose higher, but now it was tempered by fear. She knew that look in Mara's eyes all too well. She flinched, just a little, as the crop whistled through the air.

Mara clucked her tongue, 'Okay, now you, Hackett. Let's see the goods.'

Sander shrugged and complied. Mara turned her back in order to giggle to herself without breaking the atmosphere. This kind of power was a little heady. She turned back, stalking over to Amy and pushing her back against the wall. Her eyes glowed coolly.

'Now, Amy, I don't think you want to be acting up right now,' Mara's face was so close Amy could feel her breath, hot on her neck. 'This is Sander's idea, so there's nobody to pull me back if I get overly enthusiastic. Could be bad for you, because I wouldn't be going too far with Sander. He's too important to break. But you... Well,' Mara's body pressed against Amy's, her eyes narrowed. She kissed her, tongue probing deeply into her captive's mouth. It didn't appear to be a sexual act; Mara was tasting her, in the manner of a predator scenting its prey. Amy shuddered.

'Okay!' Mara said. From her bag, she produced a pair of silver cuffs linked by a small chain. Her hand reached out and gripped Amy's wrist, brooking no opposition in bringing it up and slipping one cuff around it. She repeated the action with her other wrist, tutting softly as Amy whimpered.

'Oh, these? Just to keep you on my leash, slave,' Mara gave a razor-edged grin. 'You look so pretty, in my chains...'

Sander examined Mara, his eyes drinking in every inch of her form. Earlier she had said that this was all her, but he was having a hard time believing it. Regular Mara never had such focus or intensity. She never moved quite so elegantly, never looked quite so alluringly terrifying. Her voice gilded the air like silver, yet carried a certain menacing undertone; she was holding all the cards now, and everyone knew it. His heart beat faster.

She was in her element. This was a purer Mara from the one he knew, with no need to hide anything or hold back a single thing. Liberated.

He was snapped back to reality at the sound of the crop whizzing through the air. Amy yelped as Mara's well aimed swat struck her across the ass, making her jiggle so enticingly. Sander almost crossed himself; there really was a god, and he was on Sander's side...

'Move, slave!' Mara barked in her rich, thrumming voice. Something in that voice didn't so much demand obedience as require it. Obedience implied that resistance was an option. It was a conscious choice. Amy shuffled forward, her big eyes welling with tears as she stared at Sander, silently pleading with him for an end to this. Interestingly, he could see the undercurrent of anger beneath her fear, as plain as day. It would be fun to see which direction she would pull to when Mara was in full swing.

'Don't look him in the eyes, bitch,' Mara growled, forcing Amy's head lower. 'He may be lower than me, but you are definitely lower than him. Remember that.' Amy whimpered.

'You have something to say?' Mara said archly, noting Sander's interest in her for the first time. He shrugged, shook his head. He was trying to stay nonchalant, but it was all he could do to keep his hands from shaking with excitement. A powerful Mara was an attractive Mara...

She turned from him and pulled closer to Amy, 'On your knees.' The crop traced up her spine, drawing a terrified shiver from her. She sank.

Almost as an afterthought, Mara started taking off her own clothes. She could feel Sander's fascinated gaze upon her; she hadn't noticed a moment where it had left her since she had come back into the room. She let a tiny smile spread across her face, though her back was to him now. It was good to know where his allegiance lay, but even so she toyed with the idea of making him avert his eyes too, just to remind him what was going on here.

In the end, though, she didn't mind him staring at her. He'd be thinking a little slower if he got too hot, and that'd just make this whole process easier. Besides, Mara couldn't deny; this was just fun on its own merits, and she was feeling that same warmth mingling with the heady draught of utter control. She could feel herself squirming, just a little, and she clamped down on the action. Image was important.

She led Sander to take a seat on his bed before doing likewise. She leaned into him, laying an arm across his shoulder, fingers gripping his bare skin tightly, possessively. She could feel his muscles tense at her touch. Straining against her. A surge of affection swept through her, and she smiled. Her nails dug into his forearms, just hard enough to cause him to grunt with discomfort. Her glittering grin appeared at the edge of his vision.

'My Sander...' Her voice curled through the air. 'I wonder if you realize just what you've done? How far you're willing to go?'

The crop slapped against his back, hard enough to force the breath from his lungs. The pain was temporary, but it left a thick, dripping sensation in his mind. A deep feeling of... something. Something Mara-related, and not at all unpleasant.

'Oh, I see,' Sander hissed, grunting as, again, Mara hit him, this time on the other side of his back. The muscles in his shoulders tensed in reaction, arms hanging uselessly at his sides. He shuddered as Mara's chin leaned against his shoulder, her breath almost unbearably warm on his neck. He felt certain that she would-

Yes. She bit down on his neck, just to one side of his throat, feeling the vibrations of his answering groan through her teeth. The sharp points of her canine teeth pressed against his neck in dull threat, just for a moment, before she pulled away with a playful flick of her tongue, 'Stand up.'

He stood, stiffly, swallowing nervously. Mara circled him; he knew the tactic, make him wait, wondering what she was going to do, and where. And even though he already knew, nothing could still the jackhammer pounding of his heart.

'Brave heart, Hackett,' Mara said, with such silky smooth confidence. Seconds later, the crop descended, slamming into his hip, just above his ass. It rang out like fire on his skin, but he didn't dare cry out. He exhaled explosively through clenched teeth, one foot stumbling forward half a step. He didn't turn, didn't even look at the terrifying blonde.

'Oh, very impressive!' She giggled. Again, the crop sliced the air. Again, Sander tried to stay as non-responsive as possible, and again, Mara relished his stoic grunt and tensed muscles. 'You might just have some potential in this arena, Hackett!'

'Damn you,' He hissed his response with a hoarse laugh. It was either that or shudder again. He didn't feel like repeating himself.

He knew that Mara wanted him to stand there and take everything she gave him. But the knowing was easy. Actually standing there, as her crop descended with increasingly meteoric force... That was hard. She varied her strikes, rarely hitting the same place twice. The blows rained down, on his ass, thighs, back, shoulders and stomach. Mostly, Mara was silent, but occasionally she would laugh, and the sound would chill him to his core. There was such joy in it.

By the time she was finished, she was panting, and Sander's breath came out in grunts of discomfort. He wasn't exactly shaking, but it was clear that he was close to it. He staggered sideways, landed heavily on the bed with a strange, possessed look in his eyes. Mara recognized that look, and clapped her hands in delight. Her hand tousled his hair, the gesture wrapped up in vague condescension and possessiveness.

'You're a good boy, Sander. You did well,' She leaned down to plant a rough, biting kiss on his lips. 'You'll be rewarded...'

His cheeks flushed red at her words, his hands clenched uselessly at the bed spread, but he didn't move. Didn't even catch her gaze. Something here was calling to him...

A hand extended, fingers snapped. Beckoning Amy to shuffle forward on her knees; with her hands tied behind her back her progress was stilted and awkward. Rage and embarrassment coloured her cheeks, her eyes peering out timidly from behind a few stray strands of auburn hair. Sander grinned, reached out a hand to touch her. Mara slapped his wrist, pushing his hand back down to his side.

'No, no, Hackett,' She said in a silky, dangerous voice. 'You don't get to touch until I say so.'

'Alright...' He answered in a quiet, unsteady voice that surprised him to hear it. He hadn't realized just how unsettled he was becoming, but the proof of it was in that single, quavering word. He could see the amusement registering in Mara's eyes.

'Now then, what do we do with you, hmm?' She purred in his ear, her attention actually focussed on Amy. This lack of regard was strangely galling to him, and he couldn't help but frown. Mara grinned in her head; just the reaction she was looking for.

Her hand drifted out again to lay flat against Amy's collarbone, pulling her those last few centimetres between Sander's knees. It slid down, across her breast to stroke down her belly, enjoying the smooth, soft feel of her flesh; even if it did crawl beneath her touch.

On Amy's neck, the Command Collar glinted silver in the bright light. Her eyes shifted as she noticed Mara's gaze upon the Collar; the leash that she could pull harshly at the first sign of disobedience. But with that crop still moving absently between her fingers, and the mystery contents of that bag she had brought with her, Amy doubted she would even need the Collar.

Mara stood, seeming to tower above everything around her. To Sander's spellbound eyes, she seemed far more graceful than ever before, with so much more power contained within her flawless frame. Every muscle in her body seemed so much more powerful and defined. He found he couldn't tear his eyes from her as she slipped around behind Amy and dropped to one knee. Her eyes found his, and she winked; Sander found himself looking away, as though he were averting his eyes from royalty. Actually, he found that analogy to work rather well.

'Your posture is terrible, slave,' Mara shook her head. Her hands slid across Amy's body, 'Legs spread... Arch your back, eyes down, chest out. See? Simple! Aww, and you look so damn sexy!' There again, the same sparkling, fiery grin. Again the hard cast to her eyes, the kind that made Amy shrink as far away as she could. Mara lashed out, whip scything through the air and down Amy's back and bottom. She cried out at each blow, louder each time.

'I'd tell you not to make a sound, but there wouldn't be any point to it, since I kind of like it,' Mara shrugged. 'Sander?'

'Yes-' He paused, at a loss for what to call Mara. 'Mistress?'

'Oh, we're not at that point, Sander. Mara's fine, but it's your choice I guess.'

'Thank Christ,' Sander grinned. 'Because Mistress seems a little... conventional, yes?'

'Agreed. But we're getting sidetracked,' Mara swivelled her gaze back to Amy. 'You have a job to do,' She finished coldly. Her hand was on the back of Amy's neck, pushing her head forward, 'Suck him.'

Amy closed her eyes at the command, muttering despite herself, 'God damn it...'

Mara raised the crop again, chuckling deliciously as Amy flinched and cowered. Sander felt a laugh rising from some cruel part of himself, but he pushed it away, sensing that Mara wouldn't approve. It was taking all his control just to dampen his animal urges to stop himself from leaping at the beautiful, frightening, mercurial and, above all, his Mara.

But that would break the moment, wouldn't it? It would shatter the spell and send them all spinning from this shadowy realm of infinite possibilities back into the cramped confines of reality. No, Sander found he preferred this world, that it could contain such a perfect person as his Mara.

Neither of them could stay here forever. Everything ends, given time. Best to enjoy the moment while it lasts. Such things are few and far between. He was smiling, he could feel it.

Sander's muscles jerked suddenly as his reverie faded, a wet warmth engulfing his rapidly hardening member. His eyebrows arched as he felt Amy's lips purse in displeasure around him.

'Must have been some thought,' Mara mused, face alight with chilled pleasure. 'Don't drift off on me again, Hackett,' She warned, one steely finger tracing down his spine. He couldn't disobey even if he wanted to. To give up control... No, to give it up to Mara was such a pleasant thrill. To live on someone else's desire... How could he ever have doubted this feeling the last time?

Of course, there was the constant reminder that power was also a greatly intoxicating pleasure; right there, head bobbing in his lap, straining to take more of him. She was so afraid of Mara, it was almost cute. Almost.

It was that fear that drove her, that was plain to see. That quaking terror at the pain Mara had inflicted; the marks of which had yet to totally fade. Worse, the fear of becoming that same helplessly quivering, pleading thing that Mara had turned her into; in that regard she mirrored Sander so perfectly.

Sander exhaled explosively, watching as his length disappeared into Amy's soft, warm mouth. He could feel her tongue work against the underside of his cock, his eyebrows furrowing as she picked up her pace; this was a surprising amount of enthusiasm for Amy. Just how scared of Mara was she?

Mara draped herself over his shoulders, chin resting against the base of his neck as she watched Amy perform. Sander gave a low growl of pleasure, his fingers clenching uselessly in the bed sheets. He was painfully aware of every point of contact between himself and Mara; her flesh was soft and plaint, but her weight on his back hung there like a threat. He didn't want to move even an inch for fear of displeasing the blonde woman that curled around him.

He closed his eyes, felt his muscles tense. It hadn't been at the forefront of his mind until now, but he had been getting pretty wound up watching Mara work. It hadn't taken long for that familiar "cannon is loaded" feeling to sweep over him, and certain parts of him began to heat up. And his gaze shifted, he couldn't help it. It was a mechanical act, pulling his eyes into Mara's deeply attractive stare. It had gravity, like some immense celestial body, and he couldn't pull away.

Oh, god... He was waiting for permission. Sander realized then that his entire being was on bended knee before this beautiful blonde. She smiled, seeming so proud, and his world flooded with light.

'Oh, good boy,' Mara breathed, laying her forehead against his. 'My Sander... You understand. But the answer's no, Hackett. Not yet. You wait. This is your test.' Her eyes shone a deep blue, sparkling seductively. Sander shuddered.

Well, he'd never tried this before...

'Now, you treat him nice, Amy,' Mara purred. 'Wouldn't want to make it easy on him or anything.'

'Yeah, awesome...' Sander grunted, teeth clenching unconsciously. This was turning out to be harder that he thought; when you need to let loose, it turns out there isn't a lot that's going to stop it.

He felt the sharp pressure of a fingernail under his chin, 'Don't talk back.' Mara's voice carried that steely edge that made him shiver. He closed his eyes, everything about this situation driving him closer to the edge. His throat set up a low, rumbling growl that caught suddenly every time Amy's tongue did something new.

Sander knew he couldn't last a terribly long time; thinking about baseball was an inadequate tactic at best- especially for a person for whom baseball was the stuff of historical footage and poorly maintained records. His eyes slid to Mara with what he hoped wasn't a hugely pathetic pleading look. She merely smiled back, canine teeth flashing pure white.

Below, Amy's lips formed a tight seal around Sander's cock, sliding it in and out despite the revulsion forming in the pit of her stomach. It competed with the hot anger that had steadily been building, ever since the Oviroa. But layered over all of that was the memory of the Shangri-La suite and what Mara had done to her there. Oh, that made her angry too, but fear was the ultimate imperative. Under no circumstances could she provoke a repeat performance. This knowledge was made so much worse when Amy considered the possibility that Mara might punish her anyway, just for fun. Her tongue rounded Sander's tip; she knew he liked that, and it was better to please and secure some chance of getting out of this unscathed. Even so, she had to admit; it was kind of fun to play some part in torturing Sander, even if Mara was the one ultimately holding the leash. She felt his hips quake, and wondered what would be better; having him cum now and be punished by Mara, or holding off and awaiting what would come next.

Oh, such conundrums...

'And... Stop,' Mara grinned, laying the crop lightly on the top of Amy's head, causing her eyes to meet Mara's, narrowing with rage.

Mara rosed to her feet and gripped Amy by the hair, pulling her just a little too roughly into a standing position. Sander grunted in frustration at the sudden lack of attention, and Mara chuckled. All part of her plan, although admittedly she had just thrown it together in the hallway before going to get Amy...

Her eyes shot to Amy's, distorting with a blazing, bestial fury that made the slave squeak and lower her head. That was the reaction that she was looking for!

She slid the crop up between Amy's legs to nestle in the folds of her labia, 'Hold it there, slave,' She growled. 'And maybe don't drop it. Who knows what would happen if you dropped it?'

Amy whimpered pathetically, squeezed her thighs together. Mara playfully licked her slave's cheek, giggling lightly as she shuddered. This was simply too much fun to be healthy...

She turned her wildfire gaze on Sander, watching with amusement as he seemed to lean towards her and back away simultaneously. The fascination in his eyes made her heart pound and her body seem to fill with helium. He really did have some stunning eyes, and when they looked at her like that-

She pounded the thought out of existence. He had asked her to play this role again, it wouldn't do to get distracted. There was plenty of time for that later, but right now he was here, and he was hers. She skipped the distance between them in a single step, standing over him and staring down. She noticed that his hands were curled into tight fists, and that they shook at his sides, as if he was resisting the urge to reach up and grab her. He probably was; it looked like Amy had gotten him pretty worked up, and there he was with a primed cannon and nothing to fire at. Mara giggled again.




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 12



'Okay, now that you're good and worked up,' She began, placing her hand on the top of his head. 'I think I'll ask you a question, Sander dearest.' Her voice carried a speculative air, but it also shimmered like steel.

Sander grunted in a low, throaty voice, the frustration clearly evident. God damn it, how had Mara know that he was so close...

'Now, I can see that your mind's a little addled right now, Hackett,' Mara smirked. 'So I'll make it an easy one. Just two choices.'

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Sander's eyes locked to Mara's. He felt his teeth clench as the blood flowed away from his head and towards certain other areas that were suddenly demanding his attention. This was getting kind of rough.   

Mara leaned down, whispered in his ear. His eyes widened and a smile gripped his features. She had offered two choices, but to a mind as utterly mesmerized as Sander's, there was only one legitimate choice.

His hands shot out, grabbed Mara's shoulders and pulled her down into an urgent, energetic kiss.

His choice would always be her.

To be continued...



Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 13



Author's Note: Hello, everyone! How have we been? This is the last chapter! Did you all enjoy the series?

Being the last chapter, I simply must thank each and every one of you who read, enjoyed, voted, commented or mailed me during the course of the series. It was fantastic to get such a positive response from you all, and I might not have finished the story without such kind readers. Thanks, folks!

Two people in particular deserve special mention: My editor, and the love of my life, my dearest Isabel, who would take me to task over any grammatical errors, plot holes or Doctor Who continuity errors that showed up with ruthless efficiency. Also in need of high praise is the insanely talented Allyourbase, a writer that I can't recommend forcefully enough to you folks. It's been a real pleasure getting to know this fellow over the course of the series, and without his input it would probably only be half the series it is.

Anyway, enough pontificating. One more thing, before I go; there will be more to come. I ain't done with Sander, Mara or Amy just yet. In the coming weeks, I shall be posting a pair of epilogue chapters, one devoted to Amy, Rory and the Doctor, and the other to Sander and Mara. But those are just to round out the story and lay the groundwork for the REAL thing; sequel series, folks. Entitled Doctor Who: Panic Moon, it'll have all the old characters returning, plus a few newbies to keep things interesting. I hope you'll all follow over to this new thing, because I'm rather enamored with it myself. Oh, and finally; special kudos to anyone who recognizes the Doctor Who reference in the Panic Moon subtitle. If you do get it, comment about it, maybe? That'd be cool.

Enjoy!

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

She stood by the door, staring at the polished, sterile metal. She didn't want to open it, but it wasn't like she could just stand out here forever.

The intercom system droned endlessly in the background, updating the staff on the day to day goings on of the Sierra station. After a while, one tended to tune it out automatically; being informed was all well and good, but the status of the freight corridors wasn't entirely relevant to the medical personnel, now was it?

She shook her head. That had wasted a few seconds, but she was a doctor. She had a job to do, even if her patient was a little creepy.

He had come in with a truly insane level of damage; she was surprised that he had survived at all, let alone making it all the way here without help. The guy had some willpower, to be sure, but the way he'd stared out at her on the operating table, his one functional eye devoid of emotion... She'd never been more relieved to see anesthesia working.

The Sierra Complex tried to keep these transitional periods as brief as possible, but there was only so much the doctors here could do; especially when the patient was... well, shattered. It would have taken time to grow cloned implants, but this fool had demanded mechanical implants, ostensibly to get back on his feet faster. Even so, it had practically come to blows explaining to him that engineering the hardware and software would take time anyway.

Any man who is prepared to enter into a physical confrontation with extreme blood loss and a missing hand, leg and eye clearly had nothing else to lose...

She sighed and keyed the door open. As usual, he was sitting in his wheelchair in the middle of the floor with his laptop console open and his free hand tapping away. He looked up as she entered the room, only momentarily, and she clucked her tongue; he was meant to be wearing his eye bandages until the replacement was ready. He never did, though; he just kept his ruined eye closed while the other flipped from incredibly depressed to intensely angry, seemingly from moment to moment. His eye flicked back to the glowing screen in front of him, his hand resumed his typing.

Her resolve lapsed for a moment and she stared; usually people had other things on their mind when facing such dramatic surgery, but this person had buried himself in whatever work he was doing from the moment he had woken up. Add to that, nobody seemed to know who he was, even though he was receiving the best possible care they could give him; priority level zero. It was like the administrator was purposely hiding the mystery man's identity, though she couldn't fathom why. He seemed somehow familiar, but...

He didn't even stop typing as she busied herself with checking his vitals, blood pressure and the like. His wounds were fairly minor, aside from the fact that his bones seemed to have been liquefied from within. Cases like this come around so rarely that there wasn't a standard procedure for them; his flesh, skin, veins and nerves had all been cut away from the ruined bones and preserved in cold storage, awaiting the robotic framework that would support them. But aside from all that, he had been stabilized several days ago; he was just awaiting the manufacturing personnel.

Safe in the knowledge that her patient wasn't about to die, she chanced a peek at his screen, just to see what it was that had absorbed this wreck of a man so completely, to the point where he no longer ate or slept without being forced to. A series of archival files from some ancient government agency- Torchwood or something- that she didn't recognize flitted across his screen, filled with a series of images of disparate men. Many of them had ridiculous hair, but there wasn't anything particularly compelling about them... Besides, he was scrolling through the text too fast for her to read. She could barely believe that he himself could read it.

His expression grew hollow, then dark, then fiery almost to the point of apoplexy. He stopped typing, the screen freezing on an image of a man in a black leather jacket. His free hand gripped the side of his wheelchair, so hard the metal began to squeak. His breath began to growl in his throat.

She had seen him like this once before, and there was no talking to him in this state, even if she was inclined to talk to him as it were. Something in those files just... Set him off, occasionally. Like flipping a switch from immeasurable grief to infinite, terrible wrath. He-

... He had begun muttering something under his breath, seemingly no longer aware of her presence. She leaned in a little closer to hear it; just one word, repeated over and over, faster and faster. Until the air completely left his lungs and he was repeating it on sheer willpower with a choking, near-silent voice. His good eye welled with angry tears, seeming to shift to reflect some obsidian well of black, infinite hatred. She took a step back.

Just one word: Doctor.

'Are you okay?' She ventured uneasily. He couldn't possibly be talking to her, could he? 'Do you need anything?'

He didn't move, didn't so much as acknowledge her presence. His hand had wrenched a deep dent in the side of the chair. Inexorably, his left eye opened, the empty socket providing a ghastly counterpoint to the terrifying fury burning like a sun in his right eye. She was having a hard time deciding which eye was the worst view.

With a rattling, terrifying scream that filled the room like a physical impact, he threw the laptop across the room, slamming it against the wall hard enough to shatter it utterly. He breathed hard, each breath coming out as a deep growl that spoke of the wrath of a violent god. That spoke of fire.

He spoke then, in the barely restrained voice of a true berserker, 'I'll kill him!' He roared from the very depths of his soul.

Quickly, quietly, she slipped out of the room, her hands shaking as she supported herself against the wall. Holy hell...

The question was no longer "who was he?" The question was now "what had happened to him?"

Actually, the question was now "how fast can I transfer him to another doctor?"

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

Mara laughed as she pulled away from Sander's kiss. He followed her, senses enflamed and desperate to remain in physical contact with her after Amy's extended teasing. He was still aching, and one foot tapped incessantly on the cool metal floor.

'Uh-uh, Hackett,' Mara said, slightly unsteadily. She was ashamed to admit it, but she had come reasonably close to a swoon when he kissed her. 'I gave you a choice. I need you to answer, out loud, if you please. You can either fuck Amy, or... eh heh, please me some other way. Choose.'

Of course, it was fairly clear to everyone involved that this was a test of Sander's dedication. Ultimately, this was just a game; it had a finite life and when it was over there would be no real consequences if he opted for sating the demands of his flesh with Amy. But of course, there was the inescapable fact that Mara would be disappointed...

And anyway, Sander had already made his choice. When he kissed Mara, and she had kissed him back, any other choice there might have been evaporated and his need for her became absolute. It was a weird kind of dependence, but he was fine with just following someone else. Especially if that someone was Mara.

'You,' He growled, stalking the distance between them with a particularly driven look in his eyes. His hands gripped her shoulders roughly, pulled her in even as she tried to pull away, endeavoring to preserve the idea that she was still in control of this game. But she was against him, and he was kissing her. He nipped at her neck- she seemed sensitive there- and her resistance crumbled with a moan. Sander grinned as her fingers scratched at his back; the game was fun and all, but right now he needed something a little more immediate. The game could resume when they were both satisfied.

Sander's hands slid down Mara's hourglass waist, making her twitch and squirm. He grinned wider; the animal in him simply adored the way she looked, and as his hands slid down to her ass it made him growl gleefully in the back of his throat.

He was directing her movements, as she ground up against him; maneuvering her so he could push back and guide the two of them back to the bed. Her nails raked down his back, he grunted, and...

Suddenly, the spark ignited again, she stopped retreating, her back foot slamming down onto the floor, as immoveable as steel. Sander bumped into her, attempting to shunt her further back, but she pushed him away. The crop was raised, and it dropped against his shoulder with a sound that rang out through his mind. The pain made him stop, stare, his eyes to focus on hers, where before they had roamed her body.

'Not the way the game is played, Hackett!' Mara snapped, eyes burning angrily. 'No, no, no! I already understand you're an attractive man and a talented fucker, I don't need your repetition. You are mine, understand?!'

She hit him again, and again, laying into his chest and ending at his hips. She was pushing him hard, she knew, but she was fighting against him, right now; pushing him back down into the correct mindset. God knows, sex with him was enjoyable enough that she would never say no to him, but this was something else; she'd never lost at one of these games before, and she'd be damned if she was going to start now.

'Okay, okay!' Sander blurted, grunting in discomfort. 'Mara, I'm sorry, okay! I got carried away!'

Her fingers wove through his hair, gripping tightly, 'I ain't exactly after an apology, Sander. I'm looking for a fuckin' show of deference, boy. A sign that you're willing to play my game, dance to my tune. Understand?'

She thwacked him again, swatting him on the ass when he wasn't expecting it. He yelped, and Mara was sure she could hear Amy laughing under her breath. That was something to be rectified. Sander's mouth opened, formed the word, 'Anything!'

Mara knew why. The evidence of his arousal was clear to see, it almost made her smile lustily to look at it. But smiling would be bad, wouldn't it? So, he was willing, so far... Let's go a little further.

'Oh. So you can be a good boy too,' Mara nodded, eyes like mercury. 'Nice. Well, you've been given a choice, Hackett. You chose to get me off, rather than gettin' off yourself. I'm not going to allow you to go back on that, my boy. Kneel.'

'Yes, Mara,' He had even averted his eyes, as he dropped. His hands were shaking, but it was hard to tell whether that was from nerves or arousal. His eyes flicked to her, just for a second, then flickered away. Oh, my...

She sat on the edge of the bed, body curving in its perfect, statuesque nakedness. Mara stared at Sander silently for several seconds, up and down his body with a hungry look. With a thoughtful little noise, she slid her legs open languorously and whistled, catching Sander's eye.

'Beg me,' Her voice came out huskily, eyes boring into his. Those two words hit Sander at full force, and he found himself speaking mere seconds later. This was a chasm he was perfectly ready to jump.

'Please, Mara,' He growled, swallowing nervously. 'Please let me eat you out. I want to lick your pussy,' His eyes flicked to hers, showing a lovely wry smile as his confidence returned, 'With your permission... my mistress.'

Mara's eyes widened, those last two little words sending a shiver down her spine. He'd said them with such conviction, with an animal roughness that left her in no doubt as to their authenticity. Was this his way of apologizing for losing control earlier? She smiled kindly.

'Oh, very well,' She rolled her eyes. 'You may.'

Sander shuffled forward and, with enormous gusto and a humorous little lick of his lips, dipped his head between her legs as she leaned back to allow him better access.

'Mm, good boy,' Mara moaned as she felt the first stroke of Sander's tongue against her heated pussy. It was good to know that she had regained her control, even if that control was quickly losing significance next to the growing desire burning in the pit of her stomach. She shuddered, and her back arched; her eyes went to Amy, who shifted her weight from knee to knee, seemingly afraid to move from her kneeling position on the floor. Then her eyes closed, concentration shattering as Sander's teeth gently captured her clit and sparks flew.

His fingers were stroking the delicate skin of her inner thighs with teasing, feather soft touches, making her legs twitch, and she giggled even through her moans. Some inner part of her mind was still hanging onto the idea of the game, that she should maintain control, but it was swiftly being carried away by a scorching climax that was building, seemingly in her bones. The world seemed to fall away, spinning off into space and leaving her alone with her ecstasy.

Sander's mouth was heaven; this was a skill that the last glowing cinder of Mara's rational mind tried to file away for future reference. It was good to know he was talented where it counts. Every little sensation became incredibly present in her mind; not just the flicking wetness of his tongue, or the gentle scrape of his teeth, but the slightly irritating- yet somehow oh so appealing- roughness of his stubble against her thighs and hips. The faraway appeal in his eyes when she looked at him; as though he were still cognizant of the game and was looking for positive feedback. That was... Vaguely cute, actually. She smiled; best he knew that what he was doing was exactly right...

She found her hips lifting off of the bed to meet every lash of his tongue, her legs quaking as her orgasm hit with a suddenness that surprised her. She clenched her jaw and screamed through her teeth as the climactic fires burned through her body and she bucked against his mouth. She could hear him grunt with discomfort as he pulled away, but she was ensnared in the grips of something far more pressing than wondering why. Her back arched languorously as the tremors of orgasm died away, a bead of sweat trickling down her forehead.

She craned her neck to regard Sander, who was sitting on his haunches and rubbing his mouth with the back of one hand, a pained expression on his face.

'Glad you liked that, but you've got a kick like a mule there, Mara...' He said. 'Almost lost a few teeth!'

Mara rolled her eyes, her mind whirling to try and remember what she was supposed to be doing, 'Oh, quit your bitching, Nancy.' She growled, finding it surprisingly easy to slip back into character. 'It's just a sign that you did well. Very well, actually... Oh, but I suppose you're expecting some relief too, right? Well... I guess it'd be mean to keep putting it off.'

'Damn right it would!' Sander exclaimed. He hated the expression "blue balls" on principle, but, well...

'Ah, don't talk back, Hackett,' Mara rose on slightly unsteady feet and wandered over to Amy, who was still frozen in position, her head bent low. Her face was obscured by a curtain of red hair, but the shaking of her shoulders was a fair indication that something was wrong.

Mara bent low, undoing the cuffs on Amy's wrists and releasing her from her bondage, 'Up you get. It's your turn now.'

Sander's brow furrowed as Amy remained motionless, hands curled into fists by her sides. He sat up, confusion clouding his features. Mara, seemingly oblivious, retrieved her crop from the floor and sliced it down with a harsh slap as it connected with Amy's back, between the shoulder blades.

'Amy, it's time to get up,' Mara's voice was edged with venom. 'Being uncooperative will only bring more pain.'

Amy raised her head slowly to regard Mara with a purposeful stare, 'No.'

'What was that?'

'I can't take it anymore,' Amy snarled back in a voice that neither Sander nor Mara had ever heard before. 'I can't take being used like some fucking toy! I'm done! Do whatever you want, but leave me out of it. I don't have a choice, not with this collar, but I'm not going to be a part of your disgusting little games.'

She was shaking with rage, Sander realized. Whatever fear she had of Mara, whatever helpless despair at her situation, all of it had been eclipsed by the sheer force of her quietly building anger. Sander could see this becoming a clash of wills that nobody would win; Mara had a hair-trigger when she was in this mode.

'Oh, you do not want to push me right now, slave-' Mara drew herself up to her full height. Sander moved to interject.

'Uh, Mara? Maybe it'd be best if you, y'know, backed off a little? Maybe we've worked her a little hard-'

Amy seemed to spring, catlike, from the floor in a single motion, uncoiling fast enough to catch the others off guard. She slammed into Sander, throwing his balance off and sending both of them falling backwards onto the cold metal floor. Her hands were on his shoulders, shaking him roughly.

'What are you?!' Amy screeched, expression black as pitch. 'What the fuck are you?! Why do you pretend to care, you sick fuck?! Do you care or don't you?! Pick one, you son of a bitch!'

Amy continued shaking his shoulders hard enough to lift him off of the floor and slam him back down with enough force to rattle the steel plating. Sander's eyes were wide, his arms lay useless on the floor; not stunned, just... curious, really. Amy didn't have the strength to do any real harm, and that collar was still wrapped around her neck in any case. It was just shocking to see her act like this; he had been wondering when she would reach her limit...

Suddenly, she was jerked back, her weight leaving him. Mara's hands were in her hair, pulling her backwards and ramming her against the wall. Then Mara was against her, that crop pressed into Amy's throat.




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 13



'You don't do that, Amy,' Mara's voice smoldered with an ashen, protective energy that put the fear into Amy. 'That's not what you do.'

The crop rose and fell, striking hard across Amy's cheek, her head turning with the blow, a sonorous yelp escaping her throat. Mara skipped lightly back, eyes so harsh, and struck a series of increasingly forceful blows as Amy shook and shrank away.

Sander picked himself up and circled the fray cautiously. That hair-trigger of Mara's? It had definitely been pulled; she had warned him that she might not be able to pull herself back when she started, but this was something else. She was defending him, he knew. It was sweet, in its own way, but also terrifying, and it needed to be stopped.

Mara could very easily go too far. What was it they had both said about an ending?

'Mara!' Sander shouted. 'Mara, stop!'

'Needs to learn her place!' Mara snarled back without stopping. Sander closed his eyes; well, he knew one thing that would stop her...

As she raised the crop again, his hand shot out, gripping it by the stem and tearing it from her unprepared hand. It landed in a corner as Sander spun Mara's struggling, maddened form around and pressed her against the wall with liquid grace. She growled wordlessly in his arms, eyes filled with murder as she reached out for Amy's terrified face.

He grabbed her wrists, kept her pinned against the wall, and leaned down to kiss her as forcefully as he could. His tongue slid into her mouth and she slowed, stopped, shuddered against him. Her eyes closed.

'Just stop,' He said softly, breaking the kiss. Mara was breathing hard, the fire dying in her eyes as the last cinders of rage faded. She looked up at him, not apologetically, just in awe.

'Wow,' She whimpered. 'That was hot. Do it again, all passionate and forceful... Damn, Sander, I didn't know you had it in you!' She grinned enticingly, wickedly, 'Maybe you could have it in me...'

'No, not right now...' Sander sighed, glancing sidelong at Amy, who had backed herself into a corner and was watching with a horrified expression. 'I think we've had enough of sex just for now. You need to go decompress, or something. That was fucked up, Mara.' He leaned in a little closer, 'Much as I appreciate it.'

'Oh, you thought I was doing that for you?'

'Shut up, Mara...' Sander grinned. 'Now go! Relax! Maybe even work, if you can stomach it...'

Mara giggled, kissed his cheek, 'Thanks, Sander.'

'I know, I'm a wonderful man,' He watched her dress with a fleeting sense of disappointment, even though he had suggested it. The door slid closed behind her, and his gaze shifted exclusively to Amy, 'Are you okay?'

'Just take me back to my cell,' She answered shortly, with a single word running through her head: Escape.

She was sure that she was trembling, though she could barely feel much of anything at the moment. A bleak, terrible fear had enveloped her; a true terror that she was never going to leave this place, that she'd spend the rest of her life as the plaything of these two strange people. Sander would stop anything too terrible from happening to her- apparently he cared about her that much- but this wasn't any kind of life.

The resolve to escape was still throbbing in her chest, but the fear made it immediate. She had to try something, something soon or she would go mad. Take charge of her fate, wrest control of herself back from these...

'C'mon, Amy,' Sander said, snapping her out of her reverie with as much joviality as he could. He pulled his shirt back on, 'Clothes.'

Wait. It couldn't possibly be that simple, could it? It couldn't possibly be that simple!

The thought was planted, and it had taken root. The idea was so, so obvious. So painfully, head-explodingly simple! Of course she hadn't seen it before, it was staring her right in the face!

Trying desperately to stop her hands from shaking, Amy retrieved her clothes and began dressing. There would probably be only one chance at this; one chance and nowhere to run anyway. But there had to be some way of calling for help in this place. Some way of contacting the Doctor. If she could only find out where they had stored the possessions she'd had on her when she had first been teleported here... If she could only find her phone.

The Command Collar... There was a way to beat it.

But she was going to look ridiculous.

Sander keyed open the door and gestured for her to go first. She had attacked him once; he didn't want her behind him. Well, that would work perfectly fine...

Amy's heart pounded harder than ever before in her chest, so hard she thought it might actually stop. She took a deep breath, stepped through the doorway; she was out of Sander's reach, Mara was nowhere to be seen. Perfect.

She broke into a run.

There it was, the first syllables of the word "command" dragging themselves from Sander's mouth. Amy smirked, a triumphant laugh bubbling up from within. Finally! Finally!

Her hands flew up, clapping themselves over her ears; she couldn't obey what she couldn't hear. Occam's razor had come through at last!

She laughed out loud, adding an extra barrier of noise between herself and the order, hoping against hope and waiting for the terrible moment when her feet would stop working.

But it never came.

She was running, and it never came!

She whooped a cry of victory, bouncing around the corner and out of Sander's sight. For a moment, he stood dumbfounded, head titled to one side. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

'Oh, that shouldn't have worked...' He sighed in a put-upon way. He started running; even with a mechanical leg he was still faster than Amy was, he had longer legs- just- and he knew his way around his base far better than she did. Of course there was no escape, but he didn't exactly want her running around free in her current state of mind. She could break something.

'No escape, Pond!' He yelled, following the sound of her footfalls. 'Not here! Not from me!'

He skidded around the corner, fast enough to see the last tailing strands of her hair flow around the next one. He sped up; there were too many delicate instruments in this place...

Amy continued running, hands held tightly over her ears; she wasn't about to risk accidentally hearing a follow-up order and getting caught again. She didn't know how much time she had as it was; she could see surveillance cameras lining the walls, and she had no idea where she was going anyway. She ducked around another corner. It was important to stay out of sight.

The room she found herself in was dimly lit and sparse; just a computer console overlooking a plate glass window that looked in on an even darker room. It was a start; she had overheard Sander and Mara talking about the networks here. Everything was connected to everything else, just as a matter of convenience. If she could find a map in the system, or some line of communication to the outside world. Hell, she'd even settle for a system lockdown to trap Sander somewhere else and stop him from accessing the system.

Of course, she didn't know the first thing about 34th century computers, but the thing about fear is that it erases such small, paltry concerns as logic. She hit a likely looking button that was labeled like a power switch just as Sander poked his head into the room. Something beyond the observation glass moved.

'Amy!' Sander yelled, genuine concern in his voice. 'You didn't touch anything, did- oh...'

He trailed off as a series of lights switched themselves on beyond the glass. Amy looked up, backed away, as the thing in the room lurched to life, the crackle of electricity blasting through every artificial limb.

The robot unfolded in a single, jerking movement, tiny points of light sweeping up and down its heavy steel limbs as two optical apertures burst to illuminated life on its head. They swept the room, alighting first on Amy, then Sander. Both figures froze on the spot.

'Oh, fuck,' Sander breathed, taking deep, measured breaths and preparing himself for what came next. He dashed forward, grabbing Amy's hand and pulling her as hard as he could, jerking her from the room in the same moment as the plate glass shattered under the weight of a single megaton hand. She just had time to notice that the machine was bristling with weapons.

'Run, run, run!' Sander screamed, pushing Amy down the corridor. 'Now is the time to fucking book it, girl!'

She complied, not feeling like sticking around to see why, 'What was that thing?' She yelled breathlessly as they flew down the corridor. Rhythmic, heavy clangs on the floor behind them indicated that they were being followed.

'It's a Heavy Metal, Amy!' Sander yelled back. 'One big motherfucker of a combat Mech! I designed it, back when Hackett Industries was still my thing!'

'Why is it here?'

'My ace in the hole! For if the Doctor ever actually found us!' Sander gave her a pained look. 'Usually we'd just drop those things behind enemy lines and let them go to town, but I was in the middle of programming a Friend-or-Foe recognition system for that one, y'know, so it wouldn't kill the three of us!'

'And you never got around to finishing it, right?' Amy said flatly.

'Got it in one! I got distracted, what with all the fleeing we had to do!' He sped up, looking over his shoulder to see the robot burst out into the corridor. He grabbed Amy's hand again, guiding the two of them to turn the nearest corner. 'Keep out of its line of sight!'

'So, what? It's just going to find us and blast us to hell now?'

Sander grinned manically, 'Oh, it doesn't need to hit us to kill us; it has enough firepower so that even if it misses it'll tear a hole in the walls and suck us all out into space. That's what the extra programs were for; making sure it'd only hit the Doctor, not anything else!'

'Oh, how honorable!'

'I never said that! One plays with the hand he was dealt, Amy. But you activated my trump card before it was time to play it, and now we all get to die together! Whee!' Sander laughed sarcastically. 'We have to stay out of sensor range; if it can target us, we're dead on the first shot, understand? Keep running!'

'Great!'

'Hey, maybe it'll teach you not to mess around with stuff you know nothing about! Mara!' Sander exclaimed as the blonde woman stepped out of a room ahead of them. The robot rounded the corner behind them, mechanical eyes searching the corridor ahead. Sander knew this model of Mech well; it took a few seconds for it to distinguish a living object from an inanimate one at this distance.

'What the fuck's that thing doing up and about?' Mara deadpanned. Sander pushed her back the way she had come, listening for the dreaded "target acquired" tone from the Heavy Metal. He pushed Amy in after Mara before ducking himself into the room opposite. He crouched in the doorframe, and motioned for silence.

'Amy activated it!' He whispered across the hall between them. 'One shot and we're fucked.'

'Well shit,' Mara spat. 'Nice going, Red!'

'Shut up! I have a plan, of course!' Sander motioned appealingly.

'Oh, like your "let's kill the Doctor with a robot" plan?' Mara said flatly.

'We don't have long!' Sander hissed, as the heavy footfalls drew ever closer. 'Mara, run. Take Amy and run. Get to the shuttle, take off and wait for me to call you back.'

'That plan is an idiot. What are you going to do, die at that thing?' Mara smirked despite the gravity of the situation.

'No. I know how these things work, I think I can fool it,' Sander pulled a small handheld display from his pocket. 'If I disable the limiters on my Mech parts I'll get that little extra push of agility I need to fool those targeting sensors... I can get in close enough to shut it down, or get past it to the control room to cut the power to it.'

'There's a 2056-bit encryption key on that system, Sander! You don't have the keycard with you! What are you going to do with that?'

Sander grinned, wriggled his eyebrows, 'I don't think you realize just how good I am at this stuff, Mara. But you've got to run now, before it sees you,' His gaze went soft. 'I'm not going to see the two of you die because I fucked up.'

'No,' Mara shook her head. 'I'm not leaving you, not when we've just started to-'

'I know how you feel, Mara! Just think! If you and Amy are here, the chances of us all getting killed are three times higher! If it's just me...' Sander looked away. 'That's one death. And you survive.'

Mara was silent for a moment as the robot stood as a sentinel at one end of the hall. When she spoke again, her voice was strong and unbending, 'I am not leaving you here, Sander Hackett.'

'You will fucking run!' Sander roared. 'I am still your employer, Mara Syfte, and I order you to get the fuck off of my asteroid!'

The robot beeped, turned to the noise. Mara kept Sander's gaze for several seconds as their death slowly approached the source of the sound, her eyes welling with tears. She stood and grabbed Amy's hand.

'Fuck it all...' She hissed. 'I swear to god, Hackett; you die here, and I will fucking kill you!'

She dashed out into the hall, dragging her captive behind her. They threw themselves out of the Heavy Metal's line of sight mere moments before its targeting software caught them. Sander breathed a deep sigh of relief and resignation.

'Oh man...' He said to himself. 'I made her cry...'

He hated that. He stood, feeling the limiters in his leg deactivate with a buzz as new power surged through the artificial limb. All that power came at a cost; he'd probably tear the interior tissue with prolonged use. This was a zero-sum game for him.

His newly empowered leg seemed to bounce with every step as he stalked out into the robot's view, staying still just long enough to become the new target for its optics.

Now then... It took four seconds for a Heavy Metal unit with an uninterrupted line of sight to target and prime for a kill... One... two... three...

Sander jumped to one side and began to run towards the giant machine as its armor plating shifted into attack position. If he could just keep out of its reticule long enough to close the distance between them...

He shifted position every three seconds to avoid being splattered all over deep space, reveling in the new agility his unrestrained leg was giving him. He flexed the fingers of his right hand experimentally, feeling the pure strength. Even his eye seemed to be seeing at a higher resolution than before. He whooped, determined to enjoy his own personal superhero moment; especially considering that it may well be the last moment he ever had.

Besides all that, he could feel the metal in him beginning to heat up, along with the prickling discomfort as the mechanisms rubbed against his flesh too fast to be healthy.

He ducked low under the robot's immense metal chest, kicking out with his left leg to provide a little extra thrust to slide through the arch between its legs and out the other side. He righted himself with a cheer and kept running.

'Oh, fuck yes!' He exclaimed shrilly. 'That was totally ninja!'

That action hero maneuver had bought him a few seconds as the robot turned clumsily in the too-small hallway. This thing was meant for open spaces, not interior combat. That was where Sander found his advantage.

But it wouldn't last long, given how smart a Heavy Metal was. Machine intellect was illegal in military model Mechs.

Not that Hackett Industries had cared...

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

Mara slammed the airlock door open and shoved Amy inside. She stood motionless in the open doorway, staring silently at the captive woman, seemingly searching her eyes for something. From the vaguely unsatisfied look that resulted, it seemed that she had not found it.

Mara sighed, 'I'm not leaving him to die.' The airlock closed, the last view Amy got was of Mara's steely, resolved gaze. She could hear rapid tapping at a keyboard on the other side of the door, then footsteps quickly retreating. The control panel for the shuttle lit up, and the whole rig lurched forward without disengaging from the docking bay.

Amy leaned against the wall, a frown quickly developing. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. Mara had just set the shuttle to autopilot and left her there?

'Shit!' She swore vehemently, slamming a fist against the hull so hard that it hurt. Damn it, she had a right to escape!

But even after everything that had happened...

After the endless tortures, the long nights alone with her fear, being used over and over again... That man, that strange, impossible man out there...

He had saved her life. Twice, now! By his own logic, he had no reason to do so, and he had anyway. And this time, it was at great personal risk to himself...

They could have commanded her to walk out in front of the robot, as a distraction so that the two of them could escape to the shuttle. And the idea had occurred to both of them. That was the cold, hard truth of the matter, even if it did make Amy's insides shrink in horror. That was the action that an amoral, evil Sander or Mara would have taken. That was the choice of a monster.

But neither of them had done that. Sander had used himself as a shield, and Mara had gone after him. What possible reason...

Redemption...

It was a hard thing to aim for. She remembered the Dream Lord; remembered losing Rory in that alternate Leadworth. God knows, she understood loss. The dead, clawing emptiness that ripped apart the soul and left nothing but darkness behind. A sweeping tide of sorrow that consumed you from the inside.

And, yes... The wrath. The anger that boiled up through the mind. The beast that howled for revenge; that rallied against the heavens themselves for being so cruel. The monster that had gripped Sander so completely that he had given himself to it for thirteen years. That he had defied death itself to appease.

Yes, she had wanted exactly the same fate for the Dream Lord. And that was just the first time she had lost Rory, when she had been provided an exit from that nightmare. The second time...

Oh, the second time... That Silurian... She would have done so, so much worse.

And from what she had heard, even the Doctor had felt that evil urge welling up at the loss of Gallifrey.

Amy sighed to herself as her hands went to the airlock handle. If there was one thing she was absolutely sure of...

It was that stupid self-sacrifice was what travelling in the TARDIS was all about.

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

'Yeah, fuck you too!' Sander growled, the back of his mind still counting down, despite the mounting horror of the rest of him.

One... With his back to a wall, trapped at a dead end.

Two... With the Heavy Metal standing over him, guns poised and optical apertures focused exclusively on him.

Three... With his hand completely broken. With blood dripping from his fingernails. With his leg barely able to support his weight. With the sole of his foot venting heat, so, so hot...

Four... With the end coming. With the wandering thought of whether seeing Elsa again would be worth losing Mara.

'Sander!'

The robot turned at the new sound, targeting sensors whirring.

'No!' Sander shouted, throwing all of his weight against the bend in the Heavy Metal's knee, hoping to push it off balance, give Mara a fighting chance of getting out of here alive. The robot dropped slightly, but not enough.

'Hey!'

'Amy?!' Sander roared incredulously. She had come back? 'No, damn it!' He gritted his teeth and pushed. He had to throw it off, just as the count got to three...




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 13



The sound was unassuming on its own. Just a tiny, metallic beeping; three tones, then silence. But Sander had designed the prototype Heavy Metal. He had coded the majority of its systems. He had been present for the tests, and he knew what three tones meant: Everything dies.

But the eleventh hour was where miracles thrive, as he had learned so long ago, fleeing for his life on Vesperia. It was when death granted reprieves freely, and the impossible became commonplace.

So there was another sound immediately following the ominous three tones. The sound that turned the world. The heartbeat of the universe. Even thirteen years later, that sound could still send a chill down Sander's spine. And it made Amy's heart skip a beat.

The mass of weaponry fired; the end of the world in an unbreakable armored exoskeleton. But a far greater machine was already materializing, all deep blue and unassuming. With a light on top that pulsed in time with the fateful noise. Every alarm in Sander's base went off, all at once and at full force.

The concussive shockwave of countless bullets, shells and explosives colliding with the TARDIS was enough to knock Sander, Mara and Amy off their feet, but it did not so much as dent the exterior shell of the time machine. The fire died out, and the doors opened.

Sander shuddered in reflexive horror at the next sound, the tinny buzzing that had ruined his life thirteen years ago. It was a different sonic screwdriver, of course, but it had that same noise, and it heralded the arrival of his greatest fear all the same. Sparks flew as the Heavy Metal sagged, a load bearing part of its spine breaking; this would be enough to slow it down, but not stop it completely.

As long as he didn't see the man...

Summoning his strength, Sander pulled himself up onto the back of the robot with his good hand, opening an access hatch to reveal a small screen within, an endless stream of numbers marching across it.

Stop, he told himself. Think it through. Don't think about... that thing out there. The numbers, what do they mean? Breathe deep. Be calm. Use your brain. Ah, there it is...

He tapped a long string of numbers, and breathed a deep sigh of relief as the robot sagged and switched off. Lacking the strength to continue, he tumbled backwards the remaining few feet until he hit the floor with a heavy thud.

'Holy fuck...' He breathed, already feeling something bad welling up in him. He would become a slave to it soon, but right now he needed the motionless calm. His whole body trembled with it.

'Doctor!' Amy shouted desperately. Sander's eyes slammed open. He rose, just as the sound of that screwdriver started again, and something metal that was roughly the size of the Command Collar hit the floor.

'Rory!' Another desperate, joyful shriek from Amy. He could hear her running to him, dimly, at the edge of his awareness. He was struggling to his feet. It was as if hell itself was at his back.

Mara and the Doctor both started in surprise at the sound. It was a howl of pure, tainted, black, animal fury. It didn't even sound human.

Sander shot out from behind the robot, covering the distance between himself and the Doctor in the space of a second, hands outstretched and twisted into claws. The Time Lord stood his ground; eyes filled with blackest hate, and extended his sonic screwdriver, the tip pointed directly at Sander. At the last second there was a flicker of intelligence in the wild man's eyes, and he stopped short of the sonic device, eyes wide. It remained level with his chest, the Doctor gripping it so tightly it shook in his hand.

Sander's heart thudded in his chest, the very real fear of death delaying his berserker's wrath. He had seen sonic devices at work on organic tissue. He had experienced it first hand; the power these unassuming things had to pulp bones and rupture organs. And here he was, face to face with his worst enemy...

He started laughing. It was a frenzied goblin's laugh that seemed to burn his throat. Finally! Finally! The last child of Gallifrey shows his true colors!

The laughter stopped suddenly, 'Do it.' His voice was soft, just for the two of them. His eyes bored into the Doctor's, facing his demons with eyes filled with oblivion. A dead man's eyes.

There was clearly an internal conflict there; the Doctor wanted to kill Sander. It was painfully obvious, and Sander had to exert himself to keep his nerve from deserting him; he did not want to die. But madness drew him forward; this last point he felt he had to make. The Time Lord began to lower the screwdriver.

Sander's good hand shot out, grabbed the Doctor's arm so tight. Lifted the sonic device, so that the tip rested firmly against his forehead. The perfect kill shot. There was no avoiding it.

'Do it, you fucking coward!' Sander screamed, voice rising to shrill registers as he reached the end of the sentence. Again, the stillness of the stalemate. Sander's eyes stared daggers. Realization dawned.

He began laughing again, spasms of hysterical, breathless laughter. The kind of laughter you died from, 'You won't do it! You won't do it, you damn coward! You travesty of morality! How far do I need to push you before you'll dirty your own hands and take me down?! Is this how you justify yourself? You never kill, you just set the wheels in motion for others to do the work for you? How far do I need to go to force you to be honest, just for one fucking second?! What do I need to do to get you to see? WHAT DO I NEED TO DO?!'

The words echoed off the walls as Sander shook with rage. The Doctor lowered his screwdriver, and Sander's shoulders loosened, just a little. But it was hollow relief.

Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. Sander seemed to be vibrating with pure psychosis, teeth clenched and eyes cold and dead. Behind the frozen tableau of Sander and the Doctor, Rory and Amy clung to one another, she with an exhausted, horrified expression, and he with a slowly darkening countenance as they stood mere meters away from the man who had kidnapped and tortured his wife.

Still motionless, Sander's eyes slid coldly to Rory, seemingly magnetized by his gaze. A brittle grin spread across his face, and his mouth opened, malice forming the words for him, in the same deep voice he had used on Theros, 'You seem lost.'

The words were the spark that ignited the bloodlust that hung heavy in Rory's mind. With not a sound, he stalked forward, out of Amy's arms. Sander threw his arms wide, expectantly, and took the first furious punch stoically. The force of the blow spun him a full 360 degrees, and he came up with a manic laugh and a little happy jig.

'Okay, I deserved that,' He made the universal "come on," gesture. 'Here, hit me again.'

Another punch, this time with a rattling growl, and Sander moved with it again, laughing like a demon, 'Oh, hell of a right hook! Come on, big man! One more!'

This time it was an uppercut that sent Sander sprawling back against the wall, no breath in his lungs but the laughter never ceasing, 'Hah! This is awesome! That's enough, though.' He held his hands up; his left eye was crackling mechanically, and he had begun seeing static. Rory moved in for another go, fist raised.

This time, when it descended, Sander caught in with his one good hand and flowed around the blow, pulling Rory in and throwing him against the wall. Sander twisted his attacker's arm up between his shoulder blades and held him there as Amy cried out.

'Hey!' The Doctor shouted, screwdriver up and pointing again. Sander leaned in close to Rory.

'I'm a rich man, Rory. CEO of a multi-planetary corporation. I survived for three days completely unarmed on a planet whose whole population was actively trying to kill me,' Sander laughed quietly. 'Do you really think I haven't learned to defend myself? I could snap you in two, even damaged as I am now,' Rory growled wordlessly and bucked against him. 'But I won't. See, I promised Amy that I wouldn't hurt you, and I mean to follow through on that promise. I haven't killed in a very long time, you see. It doesn't sit well with me.'

He turned his penetrating gaze to Amy, who shrank back from it, 'Amy!' He called. 'Call your husband away before I do something that all of us will definitely regret.' He released Rory and stepped away.

'Rory, come on,' Amy said in a quiet, faraway voice. 'Leave him alone.'

'What?' Rory protested. 'But he-'

'I know!' Amy snapped. 'Don't you think I know? But he's... Just leave him be, Rory. Doctor, you too? Let's just get out of here, please?'

'Yeah,' The Doctor nodded. 'Back into the TARDIS, you two. I'll just... finish up here.'

'Ooh, sounds ominous,' Sander giggled, grinning impudently. 'Hey, Amy!'

Amy stared at her captor for a moment. No expression on her face; she simply couldn't decide which one was accurate. Sander had done terrible things to her, unforgiveable things. Normally, she would be completely comfortable with hating him. But then he had gone and saved her life... that tiny, sickly glimmer of light in him. How should she feel?

She took Rory's hand and dragged him back towards the police box. When the doors slammed closed, Sander and Mara were left alone with the Doctor; the Oncoming Storm. He glared at Sander, head held high with all the fantastic menace that only a living legend could inspire. When he finally spoke, it was only one word: 'Why?'

Sander slumped against the wall, feeling himself draw closer and closer to the edge of madness. His shoulders shook with silent, wrathful laughter, eyes overflowing with molten rage. With slow, deliberate motions, he reached out to tightly grip the Time Lord's collar. The words came from far away, like an oncoming thunderstorm, laden with a maelstrom of emotions.

'You don't remember me?' He said thickly. 'You... are in every one of my nightmares... and you don't remember me?! You took everything I had away from me, and then you left! But I didn't get to swan away like you. The people you ruin never do; they have to stay behind and deal with the consequences of your choices, alien. Every action you've taken is an insult; everything you do destroys lives and weakens the human race entire. Because the moment humanity abdicates responsibility for defending itself and hands it off to an external force, we become so much less than we could be.'

'We are not cattle, Time Lord. We are not dumbly waiting for some monster to swoop down and devour us; or some king to save us from the darkness. The people of Earth are capable of looking after themselves. We rose, Doctor. Humanity rose. Took the stars in the palm of our hands, all without your help. That's why you keep returning to the twenty-first century; you feel needed there. But you made us a target, Doctor. Do you understand the damage you've done?' Sander slid down the wall, the laughter bubbling up in his throat again. He caught sight of the Doctor's disturbed expression, and the anger burned brighter in his eyes.

'Oh, did you think you were the hero? You're not. That's just a lie that even you believe. My life was destroyed, all because you made a choice you had no right to make. You aren't above blame. You treat it all like a joke. You laughed, when you left me. You're a murderer, Doctor, and you've tricked yourself into thinking you're some kind of altruist. And that's the most dangerous kind of killer there is.'

Sander gripped the Doctor's collar tighter, drew him in closer, 'Well, let me dispel those illusions for you: You killed the Time Lords! You killed the Racnoss, killed the Angels, killed the Daleks, the Cybermen, the Nestene, the Sontarans, the Vespers! Everywhere you go someone suffers, and worst of all: You killed my wife!' He bellowed, voice slamming down the corridors as all the energy left him. He collapsed back against the wall, shrinking under the Doctor's silent, inscrutable gaze.

'So you know, then,' The Doctor said delicately, slowly. 'You understand. But you're wrong; they all had the option to stop. I never killed indiscriminately.'

'I hate you. And I hate that we can't live without you. I'd rather die than live in a world where you get to be the hero after what you've done!' Sander snarled. 'Doesn't matter how many you save, it doesn't equal the single life you took from Elsa. You're the hero, yes? Big damn hero? Then give her back to me! My arm, my eye, my leg, my ribs, my home, my love and my entire life! Give them back to me if you're the hero!'

'Listen to me, now,' The Doctor hissed, suddenly very close to Sander. 'I will always find her! There is no force in this universe that can stop me! However far, however long it takes, I will get her back, every time!'

Sander's eyes sparked with amusement, and the horrifying laughter started again, 'Oh, so you know, then. You understand where I'm coming from... Well, congratulations, Doctor! You beat me! Again! Took down my last line of defense in seconds!' His eyes caught the Doctor's. 'You win. And yet everybody still loses!'

Sander burned with his laughter, collapsing into hysterics. His good hand flew to his face to cover one eye, but the other remained uncovered, with a wide, glassy stare as if Sander were looking back from the slopes of hell. Mara ran to him then, throwing her arms around the prostrate man protectively and glaring at the alien.

'Leave him alone!' She snapped, though even her hands were shaking by this point.

'I will,' The Doctor said slowly, backing away slightly. 'I will, because he didn't let her die. He could've, twice, but he didn't. But you only get one; don't let me see you again.'

'Oh, thank you!' Mara spat sarcastically as the Doctor began to walk back to his TARDIS. 'Thank you so much, oh mighty Time Lord!'

'Let me ask you one thing before you leave, Doctor,' Sander said balefully. 'You have your companion back, so tell me; is she any safer with you?'

The Doctor paused for a moment, then, 'I hope so.'

'One of them dies, you know,' Sander blurted as the doors began to close.

'What?'

He stared out from Mara's arms, 'You or your precious companions. The next time you land the TARDIS, one of you will die. Because I've been watching you through time, Doctor. Preparing for this moment, and I've seen your future. You'll be arrayed against the Silence, when you next land; that same force that blew up your TARDIS once before. And it will kill either you, Amy, Rory or the other one, that time travelling woman. Time's in flux at that point, and I've seen alternate timelines where each of you is killed, but there's no future in which nobody dies. So long as it isn't Amy, I don't really care who you lose. So you just enjoy that, Doctor; my final gift to you. Now get out.'

He shuddered again as the TARDIS powered on, leaving him to the sound that had haunted his dreams for years. Alone once more, the pair of them stared off into space in the shadow of their broken robot. Sander derived an inordinate amount of comfort from Mara's embrace, but slowly he picked himself up and shook his head to dislodge the fog of rage and fear that had descended onto his mind. Mara stood too, but didn't follow him.

Sander leaned his head against the nearest window, stared blankly out into space. Out there, somewhere, on a million different worlds, perhaps simultaneously, the last child of Gallifrey was choking out the free will of a million species. Taking action on their behalf, despite not being asked to. His blood boiled, but it was a weak anger, mostly directed at himself; he was shaking, he knew it. He'd fucked this one up, royally... His one chance, gone! He thrust his hands in his pocket, tried to regulate his breathing, pull his heart rate down into a normal register. Feeling this way would accomplish nothing, and besides, he didn't want Mara to see him like this.

She watched, as he stood motionless, concern writ large on her face. In truth, she was scared, too; whatever had happened back there, whatever had shattered so completely in Sander's mind... Her greatest fear was how this would change him. If she didn't act soon, and delicately... Whatever black pit he had fallen into now, she was the only one around to pull him out of it.

'That was... traumatic, 'She said finally. 'The monsters in your nightmares are real, all right. How are you feeling?'

Sander took in a long, unsteady breath, 'Mara... I...' His voice trailed off, sounding constricted and vague.

Mara frowned, slipped an arm around him, and spun him into a tight hug. Those things he had said, that terrible acceptance as he had stared down that immortal killer...

'Don't leave me...' She said softly, burying her face in his chest. She heard him gasp; had he actually been willing to die, just to prove a point?

Sander's arms encircled her, drawing her in. His eyes dashed about the room nervously; the words were in his head again... Eleven stupid years of barely even noticing her... He should have said them earlier, but if there was ever a time, it was now...

He crooked a finger under her chin, lifted her face to look at him, smiled as gently as possible, 'Mara... I love you.'

Mara's eyes went incredibly, ridiculously soft, but only for a moment. Before he could be sure of what he had seen, Mara closed her eyes and leaned her head against him with a grin, 'Good to know.' She said simply.

Sander burst out into spasms of sudden, desperate laughter, 'Really? Really, Mara? After all that's happened, after today, you're still not going to say it back to me? After I heroically sacrificed myself to save your shapely, well-defined ass?'

Mara rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue in irritation, sighing resignedly, 'I love you, Sander Hackett.' She pressed herself against him, both hands gripping his collar tightly, 'Of course I fucking do.'

Sander made a small, pathetic sound, just within the range of her hearing. This was the moment that Mara noticed that his hands were still shaking, that he was gripping her too tightly. It wasn't a lover's embrace; he was clinging to her for reassurance. Like a man hanging from the edge of a cliff.

And he was chanting, under his breath, 'I love you, I love you and I almost died without saying it, I love you...'

'Oh...' Mara breathed reassuringly. 'Come here, you big idiot.' She kissed him, swallowing his vaguely psychotic intonations. 'Don't you ever do that to me again, fool!' She held him in silence for some unmeasured length of time, allowing him the space he needed to rebuild his walls and put everything in his mind back in its proper place. She knew, without having to be told, that this was a type of vulnerability that he wasn't entirely comfortable with, and she was perfectly willing to let him decompress from it.

Eventually, he was able to look at her again, with a weary-yet decidedly Sander- smile on his face, 'Honestly? I have no intention of putting myself in the line of fire like that if I can avoid it, but you were in danger. Amy was in danger, and-'

'Hey, wait,' Mara cut him off, pointing to the Heavy Metal's lifeless shell. '2056 bit encryption key. You disabled it?'

'Yes.'

'In your head?'

'Yes.'

'Are you some kind of savant?'

'I'm just good with numbers. We lost anyway, by the way.' Sander chuckled. 'Shit, that situation got away from us real quick, huh?'

Mara nodded, 'Yeah.' Her gaze shifted, and she searched for the correct words to convey her next thought. It was harder than it seemed, especially after what had just happened. She wasn't even sure she should be bringing it up right now, 'Are we done, Sander? Is it over?'




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 13



'No,' Sander said easily, grinning. 'We're the bad guys, Mara. We lose. But the great thing about being the villain is that we also don't quit. Ever. So no, it's not over. Not for me, anyway. Will you follow me?'

'To the end of the universe, my Captain,' Mara said resolutely. Sure, it was a cheesy line-and she added a mock salute to it- but the universe had a place for dramatics, and this was probably as good a time for it as any. The two of them, standing together before a window opening out onto a vast celestial panoply, in the shadow of a giant robot... it was pure Hollywood, if that place hadn't been annihilated by solar flares along with the rest of the original Earth.

'Then we aren't done,' Sander said, kissing her. 'I can't stop now... Something inside won't let me. But I'll need time to think, and plan. We can't just go right back to it, can we?'

'Oh...' Mara grinned wickedly. 'Well then, my love, I think we should find something else to do, y'know, in the mean time...'

'You are insatiable,' Sander grunted, getting pushed back as she leaned into him and pressed her lips against his. '... And I love you for it.'

Outside, both the moon and the planet were rising, from the perspective of the asteroid.

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

Hours passed, and Sander had returned to his room, after a brief stop off to his mechanist's station to inject some repair nanomachines into his arm and leg, taking Mara with him. She could sleep; he found that impossible. Images of the Doctor were still haunting him. And Amy's strange, impassive expression as she looked at him for the last time. He had seen a lot of strange things, in the last few hours...

The deep thinking, the planning, it came easily to him now, in the dark, with Mara's soft breaths purring out from the depths of his bed. He had spoken the truth, when he said that something in him wouldn't allow him to stop; when Elsa had died he'd felt something snap. Something important. He physically needed to take his revenge, now.

He had seen the Doctor again; he'd looked into his eyes and he had come out the other side of that conflict relatively unscathed. But that confrontation hadn't assuaged his anger, his failure hadn't slaked his desire for vengeance. He would continue.

He had lost count of just how long he had sat there, staring out into the darkness, but eventually the idea did come to him. It was a fragile, half-formed concept, almost ghostly and insubstantial. Sander felt that to move too suddenly would cause it to dissolve away forever. Slowly, carefully, he reached for his laptop and powered on the holographic screen. He typed rapidly, calculation after calculation, until a basic framework, a shape for his theorem spun into being.

No way... That thing was workable?

Now very excited, on the verge of a wonderful breakthrough, Sander called out over his shoulder, 'Mara! Mara, wake up!'

'Huh? What do you want?' Mara moaned from within a nest of sheets.

'Come here, I need your help,' He hissed, afraid of anything that might disrupt his concentration. 'I think I've got something.'

'Alright, alright...'

The two of them sat together, each typing furiously at a separate computer. Sander was afraid to vocalize his idea, lest Mara laugh him out of the room, but she worked unquestioningly at anything he asked even without knowing why. The math got increasingly complex and hard to follow; in the end, Mara had given up trying to understand it and had begun simply entering in the numbers as Sander called them out and letting the computer deal with them.

Finally, the flow of data narrowed to a single point, a single equation, a single number. The stream dwindled away to a single digit, and Sander gasped and stood motionless before the simple, perfect idea.

'Dear lord...' He breathed. 'That is off the fucking hook.'

'I don't get it,' Mara shrugged. 'What have we got here, Hackett? What have you done?'

Sander rubbed his chin, wondering exactly how to phrase such an impossible sounding idea. Saying it out loud seemed to negate the importance of it by making it ridiculous. To say it was just silly. Still, it needed to be said. It was madness, but it was his madness, and he was going to talk about it. He opened his mouth, preparing to form the idea:

'Time can be rewritten.'

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



Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 14



Author's Note: Hello folks! I'm really rather flattered with the responses I got about the final chapter. Seems like most of you liked it, which is awesome. Thanks for all the support!

That being said, this is the first of two epilogue chapters; this one focusing on Amy, Rory and the Doctor in the immediate aftermath of last chapter's big confrontation. There'll be another one to follow, about what Sander and Mara have been up to, but there are a few hints here for that too. After this, it shouldn't be too long before I start submitting chapters of Panic Moon for your perusal. I'm having a ton of fun writing it. Should be good.

Thanks again to my new fiancée and now the mother of my unborn child, Isabel, and to my test reader Allyourbase, who are both awesome people. I hope that my current incredible euphoria at the news I expressed at the beginning of this paragraph filters down into my writing, since I think it'd boost the quality, as it's already done so for my life in general. Crap, I went off on a tangent...

Anyway, votes, feedback and comments are highly appreciated. Enjoy, fellows!

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

Time can be rewritten...

Once you took this as true, what could you do with it? Sure, it was a secret of the universe, contained of vast, nigh on unimaginable power, but what were its practical uses?

Sander spent hours at his computer, devising methods of rewriting time and asking his intelligence program whether they would be possible. Could he do it this way? No, that would tear a hole in four-dimensional space. Could a machine that did this be constructed? Sure, but be prepared for the doors to the Howling Halls to fly wide open and for everything trapped within to come out. Was it possible, then, to accomplish this? Not if you're averse to the concept of colossal, world-eating squid monsters...

Of course, eventually he stumbled upon the correct path, as he always did. A machine of unimaginable power and precision, built to exacting specifications, that would accomplish exactly what he needed it to. But, the computer had argued, a machine like this would need to be built to incredibly accurate dimensions, probably to the nearest nanometer.

That doesn't matter, Sander had answered. I'm rich.

It was around this time, as the computer began formulating the plans for such a machine, that Sander finally received his email. He cocked his head to one side as he read, brow furrowing.

'Hey, Mara?' He called as she lounged around on his bed. She had been doing that a lot lately; there wasn't much for her to do during the planning phase, and her own room had practically been turned into a storage closet. 'We have mail.'

'Oh, yeah?' She answered languorously. 'How big do they profess to be able to make your penis this time? I thought they'd be all tapped out after inventing the eight-dimensional meta-dong, but maybe they have more.'

'Ha. Actually, there's one here from Lysithea. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, he found me. I had no choice; he knows where you are and he's coming for you. I'm so, so sorry." Well... That's a little late.'

'We're running dark out here to avoid detection by Vesperian radar,' Mara mused. 'We don't really get a solid connection to the FTL comm. Bands, do we? You have to expect late arrivals, when you're doing that.'

'Hey, we got one from Tsugi, too: "Hey man, we just had a run-in with some asshole in a blue box. Seemed like the guy you're running from. His little friend knocked Cohen out cold- I guess he's fine, I haven't really checked yet- and he ripped the logs right out of our main boards. He might know where you were going now. Don't know if this is helpful to you, but I thought I'd better give you a heads up." Again, this is all terribly useful, isn't it? Good to know that the fucking Doctor's on our trail, huh?'

Mara laughed, 'Yeah...'

Sander leaned in closer, 'What the fuck? Viral's messaging me now? I didn't even know it owned a computer... "Hackett-Clan, the Time Lord is coming for you. I have delayed his progress by only imparting partial information; this will be costly." Shit... Think he'll take a busted Heavy Metal?'

'Who gives a fuck?' Mara deadpanned. 'That thing can't leave its cave anyway.'

Sander sat back in his chair, spinning it absently. Now that he had his plan locked down and there was some free time, he had remembered something... There was still one piece of unfinished business that he had to take care of. He had made a promise; it was unfair to Mara to keep her waiting. It didn't seem like she even remembered he had made that pledge to her, but she had a mind like a steel trap; she was probably just giving him some time to recuperate from his confrontation with the Doctor.

Well, she was his girlfriend now- she allowed him to use the term because "lover" sounded too pulpy for her, and "fuck-monkey" had been a little unsettling to him. He should show her that he was looking out for her without being prodded. That was a nice, normal thing to do.

Pity there wasn't anything terribly normal about the promise itself...

He smiled wistfully, remembering the simpler times when all he had to worry about was keeping Amy under wraps and avoiding an immortal, time travelling alien. Oh, wait... that was about a week ago.

If he was going to do this, he would need to call in some favors. He opened reply windows to Lysithea, Tsugi and- with a little helpless noise in the back of his throat- Viral.

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

TARDIS control room, mid-flight in conceptual space: One week earlier, objective time.

He was alone. Both fundamentally and... well, presently too.

His hand trailed absently over every familiar contour of the time machine's control panel, trying to draw some comfort from his surroundings. It was harder than it looked; a dark fugue had descended over everything. Maybe this time something had happened that they couldn't recover from.

Maybe the Doctor had finally found something he couldn't fix.

He had never encountered anything like this before; Sander's plan had been dark. He had fought Daleks, Cybermen and Angels; tangled with some truly nightmarish opponents. Things with impossible powers... And yet a pair of humans had struck a blow far more damaging than even the most fearsome alien enemy.

What was worse, if he concentrated, truly probed his memory, he could remember Sander. Just barely; some memories, the big ones, stuck between regenerations, but the- he hated using the word in this- smaller ones tended to grow blurred with time. Tended to disappear...

At the time, with that broken man standing in front of him and cackling like a maniac, he hadn't said a damn word. Usually it was hard for him just to keep silent, but confronted by Sander, the words had just dried up. What did one say in a situation like that? For god's sake, the man had tried to attack him seconds after seeing him!

Of course there was guilt. In the TARDIS it was easy to forget that life went on outside; when the fight was over and the Doctor leaves, nobody else has that option to escape the aftermath. Sander had fought for his life, and he had... what? Stepped back into the police box and swept away to some other time and place?

He should have been more careful... Indelicacy and time travel didn't work well together. He was the last of the Time Lords; he needed to know that he would leave a situation in a state of equilibrium.

Sander himself had given the Doctor a lot to think about, but he wasn't the primary concern right now. Amy was hurting, that was easy to see. But there was no possible way to heal her, not this time. There was nothing that he could do; Rory would try his best, but even then... Who could tell? Nothing like this had ever happened in the TARDIS before.

Aside from that first, clinging hug in the hall of Sander's base, Amy had found it remarkably hard to look at him. The Time Lord had seen her blush as she refused to meet his gaze; he wondered why, but now wasn't the time to broach it. That look in her eyes... He had never wanted her to look at him like that.

She and Rory were somewhere in the depths of the TARDIS; The Doctor could easily find out where, but he didn't. He could understand if they wanted to cling to each other in solitude for a while. They had earned that.

The Doctor leaned against a railing and looked up into the vaulted ceiling of the TARDIS. He had... Right away, he had asked her if she wanted to go home. The words had sounded so pathetically hesitant, almost needy; as though it was somehow selfish to want her to stay. She had looked at him then, coldly, and answered with just one word: No.

And then she had wandered off with Rory. Hopefully, the two of them would be able to coax some normalcy back into this place. But who knew? Maybe this uncertainty, the awkwardness and the trauma, would become a permanent fixture here. Maybe he would never be able to treat his companions as he used to.

One thing was certain: he would be more careful next time. Without context, it was easy to see his life as a series of adventures; fun little diversions to distract himself from eternity. But he was stepping in and out of people's lives. They have to keep living them, even after the last child of Gallifrey leaves them. He envied them for their ability to live normal, finite lives... But a Time Lord can't even understand what a life like that would mean.

He would be more careful... But it was too late for Sander and Elsa.

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

TARDIS chambers, elsewhere.

There was a moment of awkward uncertainty, in the seconds after they stopped and realized that they were finally together again after all this time. Away from all the darkness, away from that damn asteroid and the madness that seeped out of it... What was there to say? What did one do after something like that?

Amy's eyes darted around the little alcove that they had found themselves in, looking at everything but her husband. Rory simply watched her, hoping that she would make the first move, that she would know what she needed. Maybe not the best plan of attack...

'Are you okay?' Quite possibly a frontrunner for the stupidest question ever asked, but in the moment Rory could think of nothing else. His hands kept clenching into useless fists before unclenching again, wishing for nothing less than to be able to wrap around Sander Hackett's neck. That bastard...

'No,' Amy replied quietly. She moved closer to her husband, 'But listen... you can't blame yourself for any of this.' She leaned in and kissed him deeply, passionately; their reunion expressed in a single action, but with a desperate edge to it. As though she was... reclaiming him.

'I don't blame myself,' Rory said between increasingly heated kisses. 'I blame Sander and Mara. I wanted to kill them for hurting you!'

Amy's beautiful eyes flashed sullenly as she flipped her gaze to Rory, 'Can you understand why I wouldn't want to talk about those two right now?'

'Oh. Yeah,' Rory nodded as Amy melted against him. The two of them stumbled back, hit the wall...

'What do you want?'  Sander shot forward, pressed himself against her. His lips covered her own in a forceful, possessive kiss. Amy tried to push him away, but the larger man, whose hands firmly gripped her hips to keep her from wriggling out of his grasp, physically outclassed her.  The kiss broke, and Sander's eyes bored into Amy's with his curiously penetrative stare, 'You.' He said.

Oh. Oh hell. That couldn't be good. Amy shut her eyes tights and pressed her mouth to Rory's, harder than before, trying to dislodge the memory. Why had she thought of that?

She felt a shudder go down her spine to mingle with the growing heat in the pit of her stomach; finally, some legitimately welcome arousal... She tried to go along with it, after days of having to fight against it. It was a harder adjustment than she cared to admit.

'I just...' She began, trying to find the words. 'I need you, Rory. Now.'

That was certainly true; she had been so afraid that she would never see him again that the idea of taking back her life in the most heated, urgent way possible was incredibly enticing. So she pushed her body against his as hard as possible, shivering as his familiar hands caressed her, slid under her shirt. She was shaking, but something in the back of her mind hinted that this wasn't just due to arousal.

Her hands slipped to the buttons of her shirt, attempting to undo them with trembling fingers. Her eyes closed, and she tried hard to avoid seeming like she was screwing them shut. Try as she might, even with Rory right in front of her, Sander loomed in her mind. Mara flitted through her memory. Like chains, trying to drag her back into the past. If she could just do this one thing, this one act; turn sex from something torturous back into an act of love, they would leave her. She had to be able to shrug them off.

Rory's hands were at the button of her skirt, his mouth was at her ear, hot breath prickling her skin. She exhaled a fluttering breath as she heard the almost inaudible metallic pop, felt the denim slide down the curve of her thighs. Her tongue batted against his as their mouths met again; she tried to remember the old heat, how this was supposed to go. She felt herself shudder, almost retreat from his touch as another memory wracked her mind-

'Something's wrong,' Rory stated flatly. 'We can wait.'

'No!' Amy appealed desperately, descending on her husband with renewed fervor. 'No, no, no!'

He was hesitant at first, but Rory soon found Amy's incredible new energy infectious, and he pushed himself back into the fray. Amy groaned, a sound somewhere between pleasure and relief, and her hand went to his fly.

This was different; Rory's touch had love in it, so distinct and warm and wonderful. Yet somehow delicate, as though he was afraid she might break if he pushed too hard. And that was fine; Amy had had enough of roughness. A little tenderness would work perfectly. Except that...

Except that Sander had touched her like that, back in Nirvana when their minds had touched...

'No, no, no!' She hissed, under her breath as she stepped out of her skirt and pushed one leg lightly between Rory's, her soft thigh rubbing against his crotch. It didn't look like he had heard her, or if he had he didn't care. She was clearly providing too much of a distraction. She tried to smile, injecting as much allure into it as she could; he grinned back, the same goofy smile that she had fallen in love with. Why wasn't this easier?

Suddenly, her shirt was discarded, that final remnant of captivity strewn across the floor, and she stood naked, perfect and vulnerable. Their eyes met, hesitantly, as though they were afraid of what they would find. But the moment Amy saw Rory's fascinated expression, she grinned and hugged him, very aware of the effect this had on him, stripped as she was. Her smile curved higher.

Rory's hand cupped one small, pert breast, drawing a deep groan of satisfaction from Amy as heat raced from her rapidly tightening nipple. She had always loved the warmth of his touch, and he was more skilled at it than even he realized, but this was something special. This was safety, and stability, and Rory; finally Rory again, after so, so long...

She had been undoing his fly without even realizing it; when she had said she needed him before, that hadn't been an exaggeration. His fingers tilted across the smoothness of her stomach, making her abs squirm and tremble under his touch. Her flesh had such a wonderful soft pliancy, and she was so terrifically sensitive; every touch yielded some new sexy noise or reactive shudder. Rory could play her like a violin without even trying. But he was trying now, and sparks flew. Her legs shook as he caressed up her thighs before dipping just the tips of his fingers into her rapidly warming pussy, teasing her and watching as her hips bent to follow his retreating hand. His fingers came up glistening.

She reached out, grabbed his hand and brought his fingers to her mouth. She had never done this before, but Rory found it hard to complain as her tongue swept the juices from his digits and her soft lips stroked across his skin. There was a degree of subservience in this act; in her downcast eyes, the quickly deepening redness of her cheeks, something unspeakably arousing. In her own mind, Amy didn't know why she felt the need to do this now; it was so strikingly similar to something Sander had done, but... It had a kind of magnetic attraction for her, a deep, dark sensuality that she'd never really felt before. Besides, Rory seemed to like it.

He growled wordlessly as her graceful fingers wrapped around his hardness, as his jeans pooled on the floor around his ankles. She pumped up and down, once or twice, but it was more a treat than a necessity; he was already achingly hard, and in the moment she wanted nothing more than to have him fill her. She let him flip her bodily against the wall, so that her breasts pressed momentarily against the cool surface, the composition of which eluded her. She placed her hands high on the wall and arched her back, offering her needy cunt and creamy, taut backside for his use. Her legs spread wide, her thighs trembling with anticipation.

She felt his fingers penetrate her once again, and through the resultant cry of ecstasy she heard his breath on her ear, 'I missed you.' His voice seemed deeper now, and masculine too, devoid of all the awkwardness that was usually there. In truth, Amy could have done without the talking, preferring that he showed her that he missed her, but the sentiment was nice and the deep roughness of his voice sent chills down her spine.

Amy bit her lip hard, almost drawing blood as Rory continued to finger her, his hand circling and curling over all the right places to make her melt like butter. She whimpered in helpless pleasure, unable to do anything but buck against him and hope that he would fuck her soon, before she went mad with desire...

Sander plunged forward, his cock in her balls-deep. At the same time, he twitched his fingers inside her cunt, his thumb brushing against her clit. Immediately, Amy arched her back and moaned, long and loud. Her fingers dug into the sheets and her pussy spasmed around his hand as she came, orgasm slamming into her like a bomb blast, shattering her ability to do anything except moan like a whore and grind herself on Sander's cock.

Amy grunted, hit her forehead against the wall in a desperate attempt to grind the memory away. It wouldn't take much to distract her; the flashback had done little to reduce the heat flowing through her, or her desperate arousal. It had seemed to run parallel to it, a sense memory triggered by the climax brewing in her belly rather than an emotional recall.

Still, something in that couldn't be entirely healthy either.

His free hand skated across the trembling skin of her back, and she couldn't take it anymore, 'Please, Rory!' She begged. She begged, automatically. She wanted something, so she begged for it. Some small part of her, immune to the lust, curled up just a little more. She was lucky, that tiny shameful component of her supposed, that she had said Rory's name, rather than Sander's or Mara's.

He must have sensed that thought, because he was kissing her neck, whispering half formed apologies in her ear. Amy didn't care, not in the slightest. She had begged, but she had done it because she wanted to. It was going to take more than a fleeting impulse to make her feel bad for wanting him inside her. She shook her head, a small gesture to let him know that it was okay, and would he please, please, please continue?




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 14



Her liquid eyes, sparkling with desire, met his, and she made a tiny noise in the back of her throat. Just that one look, loaded with deep, abiding affection, was enough. She loved him so damn much. She pushed her hips back against her husband, anxious for his touch. And he gave it to her.

She felt the raw heat of his length pressing against her liquid folds, sliding slowly, gently into her. She moaned, a high, shaking, whimpering sound that seemed to fold itself into every corner of the TARDIS; she wouldn't have been surprised if the Doctor had heard it back in the control room. Rory began to move inside her, rough little moans escaping his own throat as he withdrew, his cock now glistening in Amy's wetness.

For a highly advanced timeship, the TARDIS was surprisingly dim, filled with stretching, deep shadows, and those same shadows played over Amy's back in a somehow very appealing way as she arched, perfect and statuesque, her hips bucking with need to meet each of Rory's slow, tender thrusts. He could hear her breath fluttering in her throat, feel every full-body shiver that pulsed through her. One hand gripped her hips to hold her steady as the other stroked down her stunning red hair, travelled down her back, curved around her waist, tickled delicately at her belly before sliding further down, between her legs.

Amy cooed softly at the first tentative touch to her clit; no words were needed, and Rory began a leisurely rubbing motion over her hot little button, each teasing touch sending heat singing through every nerve. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sheer, genuine eroticism of the scene, this stolen moment away from the Doctor, wash over her. She could feel a dreamy, faraway smile spread across her face.

There was a hand cupping her breasts, as Rory's hips pressed against her ass, his dick buried so perfectly in her. He had always loved her breasts; his fingers traced the underside of first one, then the other with the assured confidence of familiarity, knowing exactly where to touch her to make her moan. He was kissing her neck, nipping at her ear, she was shivering into him... They were together again.

Amy writhed with a sudden, striking orgasm, her fingers curling uselessly against the wall of the TARDIS. She moaned, low and deep at the back of her throat in a tone of contentment, as a series of muscles up and down her legs flexed tightly against the rapid flush of pleasure. It was a soft, deeply satisfying sensation, despite its rapid onset; a gentle climax left her with a floaty feeling, her body feeling almost weightless.

Rory laughed, feeling her interior muscles contract against him, and Amy leaned her head back so he could kiss her properly. The warmth of his kiss was fantastic, but brief as Rory tilted his head back with a long groan as he came, hot rivulets of cum mingling with Amy's own juices as she trembled against her husband, eyes closed as she simply relished the fact that she was free again. That she was, for all intents and purposes, home.

The silence was broken only by the slight hum of the time machine and their heavy panting as they leaned into each other. Rory's hand slipped over Amy's ass, almost in fond farewell, as he slipped out of her, moving to lean against the wall beside his wife.

'Thank you,' He said quietly, a little of that classic awkward Rory-ness returning. It was odd how fast that happened after they had sex...

Amy laughed, just slightly, and speared him with her gaze, 'I'm your wife. You don't have to thank me for that.'

Rory thought about this, looking first at Amy's body, then at his own. His brow furrowed, 'That doesn't seem right...'

She laughed again, this time genuinely, and it was like tinkling silver in the air. Rory found himself smiling, almost forgetting the delicate nature of the situation. Amy's arms slipped around him, her head rested against his chest.

'Thank you,' She breathed. 'I didn't know...' The rest of that sentence was lost to time, as the girl who waited sighed heavily and closed her eyes, her ear pressed against the reassuring warmth of Rory's chest. She could hear his heartbeat speed up.

He returned her hug hesitantly, gently, as though she might break if he handled her too roughly. It was several seconds before he could speak without tripping over the words, 'Are we going to be okay? Are you?'

'Maybe,' Amy shrugged uncomfortably. 'I can't... I don't know, alright? I just don't know, but I'm back now. I'm here, Rory. You rescued me.'

'I barely did anything,' Rory muttered darkly, trying his hardest to avoid Amy's earshot. 'It was the Doctor who did everything, just like always...'

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

TARDIS control room, mid-flight in conceptual space: One hour later, objective time

'Well, there's the happy co-... There you are,' The Doctor said, shifting uncomfortable to the opposite side of the control column. He couldn't help but notice that Amy still wasn't able to maintain eye contact with him.

'Yeah, we're here,' Rory tried to inject some energy into his voice, but found it crushed down by the sheer awkward air in the room. Had this place always been so... alien?

'So...' For once even the Doctor was lost for words. 'What happens now?'

Amy stepped forward, thrumming with decisive energy. Her footfalls echoed strongly on the glass floor as she crossed the control room and finally sustained eye contact with the startled Time Lord. One hand reached out, smoothed down his collar in an oddly affectionate way. She gave a brittle smile; this was the Doctor, not some random fool looking for a quick score. Besides, what had happened in the Shangri-La public hall, that secret that only Amy knew... that was a different world. Completely different. It might as well have been two different people.

'We move on,' Amy said simply, her voice oozing a confidence that she had been lacking previously. 'Somewhere nice, I think. Somewhere sunny. Not too science fictiony, right?' She had had her fill of metal corridors and airlocks for now.

The Doctor blinked, his eyes following his companion as she moved away, her back to both him and Rory, 'Right. Somewhere nice and sunny it is...' He turned to the control column, and things began to beep and move under his practiced hands.

The TARDIS began to move in earnest, and Amy was struck with the singular idea that, so long as she was here, in this place, with her Doctor and her Rory, she'd probably be just fine. Oh, it would take time; it always took time for scars to heal. But they would. See, the thing about a time machine- the wonderful thing about a time machine- is that it provides you with all the time you could possibly need.

She was Amy Pond; she'd waited for fourteen years for her call to adventure. She'd seen the universe end. She'd felt herself die thousands of years before she had been born. And she was here.

She'd be fine.

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

Carcer base, in orbit around Vesperia's second moon: Nine days later, objective time

Sander grinned in the dim electronic glow of his computer screen. He stood, with Mara sleeping behind him. He had mail.

'Found you...' He lilted softly in the dark. 'Thanks, Lysithea.'

He moved. For himself, sleep could wait. There were things that needed to be accomplished. It was good to have work to do again.

To be continued...



Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 15



Author's Note: Okay, so this is the second epilogue, and the last chapter in the Amy, Captured series. After this, it's all Panic Moon, the first chapter of which will be up and about as soon as I can get it to y'all. 

Special thanks go to my editor and baby mama, Isabel, who deserves extra credit for sitting with me and throwing a bunch of new ideas into this chapter to really make it shine. Thanks also to Allyourbase, who gave some amazing advice and added an awesome new perspective and intellect to this whole thing here. The three of us discussed it, and we're unanimous in picking this chapter as the hottest one. It's certainly a personal favorite, and that's probably down to the amazing help I had in writing it. Thanks, guys!

Votes, feedback, comments... You know how I feel about all that by this point! I NEED feedback to function, fellows! As much as you can give me, good, bad, I don't care. Just tell me what you think, please! 

Enjoy the story, and please look out for Panic Moon, coming very soon!

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

The endless night droned on outside the thick plate glass. The asteroid spun in its inexorable orbit, just as it always had. Everything had changed inside, but the universe outside remained obstinately unchanging.

Mara sighed, leaned her head against the glass. Everything had changed, but daily life still ran in its groove. Sander still buried himself in his work all day- well, for twelve hours out of every twenty-four- just as surely as he buried himself in her at night, with a verve and energy that had shocked her, at first. She wondered whether he had always been so... vigorous, or whether it had something to do with the Doctor's reappearance. She knew better than most that people acted out in all sorts of ways to deal with trauma, but eventually she learned that his attentions were something to be enjoyed, not puzzled over.

Still, it couldn't be healthy, running a life like that. Sander had never had a hugely stable mind, not since thirteen years ago, but this was something new. He had always been driven in his work, but he had never completely locked her out of it before. She couldn't count the number of times he'd come running with some new program or mechanical thing, eyes sparkling with almost childlike glee, to show off and explain the vengeful purpose they could put it to. 

But now... she couldn't even sneak into his office to see him. The damn intelligence program stopped her; when she tried using her executive access priority to get past it, Sander's access overwrote her own and blocked her out. It wasn't just that she was locked out, it was that he was keeping secrets from her! It'd be frustrating, if it wasn't so baffling.

Well, at least the stars were pretty...

Suddenly, strong hands were on her shoulders, twisting her away from the window as a leg wrapped around the crook of her knees, sweeping her weight off her feet. Mara found herself held off the ground by an arm in the small of her back, looking up into Sander's glowing, passionate eyes. Her expression shifted to sarcastic deadpan, as it so often did when he tried anything dramatic like this.

'Someone's chipper today,' She said flatly, actually kind of enjoying being dipped like this.

Sander smiled, a little tensely, 'Someone found who he was looking for.'

'Me?'

He winked, 'Hah, you're funny. No, it's not you. It's not hard to find you. Believe me, this one was a hard one to track down. We're going out.'

'Where? And... who?'

'I found Walker,' Sander sounded a mite uncomfortable, as though he was delivering bad news.

'Let's move,' Mara answered quickly, dragging herself back to her feet by using Sander as support and striding quickly to the shuttle bay. Her fingers flexed with manic energy, knuckles cracking. She had been waiting a long time for this.

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

The shuttle bucked as it slammed into the atmosphere, a patchwork sea of dark clouds stretching out endlessly below. Mara was thrown from her seat with an incoherent shout of surprise, and even Sander whooped at the strength of the impact.

'In case you couldn't tell, we're here,' Sander's face poked out from behind the pilot's seat, grinning sheepishly. Mara was no expert, but she could tell when he had bad news...

'What have you done now?' She sighed flatly, picking herself up from the floor and heading to the copilot's chair.

'Now, hold on,' Sander said desperately as Mara began tapping at the console. 'You didn't give me a whole lot of time to explain, and... Oh, hell.'

She had fallen silent and still as the cloud layer shot past them at speed and the exterior shell of the shuttle contracted in the deep cold with a series of loud thumps. The oceans of this planet were very distinctive, and immediately recognizable to certain types of people, Mara and Sander included. The composition of the water was different, one of those miraculous, wondrous coincidences of physics that served as proof of an incredibly vast universe that had literally everything in it.

The facts shot quickly through Sander's mind; the temperature threshold between liquid and frozen for the water here was only half a degree. The cloud cover was constant, and the oceans would literally freeze and thaw in time with the periodic illumination from the planet's sun; in motion it was breathtaking to behold. The waves pitched higher, freezing momentarily in shining sculptures before the next finger of light hit them, sending tumbling waves of glittering, rapidly thawing ice shards back down into the alternating solid and liquid maelstrom below. The whole planet was chilled cold enough to kill the average person stone dead in seconds.

Only the truly brave and adventurous would make their homes here. That, or they were running and had nowhere else to go.

Poor, poor Mara...

She looked at Sander with an expression he had never seen on her before; a kind of constricted, vaguely hunted set to her eyes, with a jaw clenched to hold back a whimper. He had never seen her look in any way vulnerable before, and seeing it now gave him an unbearable urge to hug her. He followed that urge, bundling her up into his lap on the pilot's chair and squeezing her tightly, noting with considerable distress that she was shaking like a leaf.

She tried to shape the word, the noun that had become one of the few words she would hesitate before saying. On the first attempt she could only mouth it with a trembling jaw. On the second, she managed to get the sound out, in a hoarse whisper into her lover's ear: 'Myriad.'

'Yeah, sweetheart. I'm sorry,' Sander tried his softest, most reassuring voice. 'I'm really sorry.'

Inside his head, Sander was struggling to find words violent enough to express his anger at this Walker fellow. Why here, of all places? Why here, goddamn it! Anywhere else in the galaxy, hell, the whole universe, and he would have traipsed in without a second thought, for her. Stormcage, Helios, it didn't matter! Anywhere else and he was sure she would have coped. But that bastard had come to Myriad. Had he meant to? Had he done it to somehow spite her? 

This was the place that gave Mara nightmares, for fuck's sake!

And Sander had to admit, he wasn't a huge fan of the place either. The cold was the least of your worries, if you landed on Myriad. The cold could only kill you. 

'Why here?' Mara shuddered. 'That fucker... Why did he have to come to this place?'

'It's the one place that you're guaranteed not to be followed,' Sander said grimly, unconsciously stroking Mara's long hair with one hand. When he had been here, it had only been for a single day, to collect a piece of machinery that couldn't be acquired on worlds that appreciated sanity. But Mara had been there for years; she hadn't been able to leave, for reasons she'd never made entirely clear. But there were plenty of disgusting, barbed traps that could spring and keep a person on Myriad against their will; Sander understood how the planet could inspire such sickly, ice-cold fear.

It wasn't that it was a criminal haven; there were plenty of planets like that. Myriad was the template upon which those other worlds had been based, and they were all mere shadows of it; it would be depressing to think that more than one such monument to the tainted nature of the soul could exist at any one time. If you were being chased, if there was no possible chance of escape, if your crimes were truly terrible enough to warrant constant pursuit, if you were committed to repeating those crimes... you run to Myriad. But Myriad does not harbor fugitives for free. This was a planet were heat was a commodity. 

And in a place where every person is willing to kill to get what they want, it can be very hard to pay for safe passage. Mara had never spoken about her time there, but Sander had met her there; ostensibly she had been working at providing various criminal groups with untraceable communications arrays, but it had always been fairly clear that this was not all she had been forced to do to survive. Sometimes, when she thought he wasn't watching, she had the eyes of a victim. Other times, she had the eyes of a killer...

'Listen, you don't have to do anything,' Sander said gently. 'We can just leave; that's the difference. We can go anytime,' He felt it important to remind her that, this time, she had backup. 

'I've never told you about this place. Not properly,' Mara choked out. 'Fuck... The only reason I came here was that I couldn't afford a longer FTL jump on short notice. Thought it couldn't possibly be as bad as the rumors made it seem. It was worse.'

She pressed herself against him, drawing comfort from the solid weight of his body being so close. He could feel her breathing deeply into his chest, and he wrapped his arms more tightly around her, entwining the two of them together as closely as possible. A wave of warm, protective affection went through him.

'I'm sorry,' He sighed. 'Really, I am. You just sort of had us rush off before I could tell you where we were going. But we can turn around, love. We don't have to-'

'No!' Her head lifted, and her eyes glowed with fury. The words tore themselves from her in thick, tearful snarls, 'Absolutely fucking not! I'm here, Sander! Right now! And he's here. I've been waiting for this day, and-' She kissed him, deeply, lovingly. 'You made it happen for me. I can't thank you enough, I'm not going to waste the opportunity you've given me, I'm going to pay that piece of shit back for what he's done, and you're going to be there when I do, Sander Hackett.'

A grin rippled across Sander's face as, even under such stress, the immutable fact of Mara shone through. He hugged her closer with an amused grunt, and she was kissing him, and he was kissing her, and both of them very almost got distracted, until Mara forcibly separated herself from him and stood, making a series of lengthy, urgent gestures with her hands while breathing heavily.

'Alright,' Sander laughed, crossing to the strongbox bolted to one end of the floor. He produced a few bundles of cloth, 'First things first: thermal wear.'

He tossed one bundle to Mara, who unfolded the long, dark coat with a speculative gaze. Hers was a thick black jacket with a lengthy, tailing end and luxurious fur ringing the collar, cuffs and edges. She pulled it on, nodding appreciatively.

'Hey, this looks pretty damn nice, Sander!' She smiled, fanning her thick blonde hair out from the collar, shifting her arms to feel the reassuring weight of the garment. She twirled on the spot for Sander, causing him to give her an energetic thumbs up.

'It's inside the collar,' He said absently, throwing on his own coat, a bulky, dark blue greatcoat with a flared collar and deep pockets. There were faint traceries of pale blue light moving along the coat in thin lines, just barely visible but definitely there. He winked, and together the two of them went to the airlock. They simultaneously pressed a button inset in the collar, and the air around them blurred for a moment, shimmering as though in heat haze before fading out. Mara giggled and wiggled her hips.

'Ooh... Warm!' She grinned.

'State of the art, baby,' Sander grinned back. Since he liked the idea of not freezing to death on a planet that was, for all intents and purposes, a black pit of human misery, he had spared no expense on these protective jackets. The convection fields in them could extend for several feet from their bodies, heating the air around them to a comfortable temperature even as the rest of the planet froze. These particular thermal coats even had systems in place for dealing with high winds without the use of proper kinetic barriers. That, and they also looked badass. Sander loved his magic coat.

'Are we going to be armed, here?' Mara cocked her head to one side. 'I mean, this is Myriad.'

Sander shook his head, then pressed a button in the right sleeve. With a small, silken sound, he faded from view. Mara made an impressed noise.

'Rich guys get the best toys,' She shook her head with a laugh. She felt a weight around her, lips pressed against her own. 

'Aren't you glad you're with one, then?' Sander's voice slid out next to her ear. Mara swayed away from the sound.

'That was... disconcerting,' She hit her own button, rippling into invisibility. 'I suppose you're right, though. Best not to escalate things with violence in a place like this.'

'That was my thinking, yes,' She could sense Sander nodding curtly. 'Now, I can't see you, Mara, so you have to stick close to me if you don't want to get separated,' A hand wrapped around hers, tugging her unseen form a little closer to his own. This close, Mara could only be impressed at the sophistication of the EM warp in place here; she couldn't even see any distortions, like she would with a commercial camouflage array. So this was what had been keeping him so busy...

The bay doors opened, and their footsteps echoed coldly on the runway. Mara took hold of Sander's arm as the first thrills of fear swept through her; she knew she was completely concealed, she knew she had a way out, she knew Sander was right there by her side, but it didn't matter in the face of the immediately familiar environment. There was no way she could feel safe here.

Myriad was a depressing place. It was a stroke of luck that what passed for snow in this hellhole wasn't falling; the dense ice crystals tended to either fall in heavy, bludgeoning hail or in stinging, frigid rain that froze on the skin if you didn't have adequate heat layering. Mara doubted that their cloaking arrays could deal with that kind of pressure.

She immediately recognized the area in which they had landed; it was a middle-class district on the eastern edge of the south continent capital city of Refraction. Which basically meant that, although they probably wouldn't be outright killed by anyone they met, they would find themselves put to... some other use. 

The tiny spaceport opened out onto a large plaza; like most outdoor spaces on Myriad, this one was almost deserted, only a few plucky, sketchy looking individuals dared brave the cold, sticking closely to the walls of nearby buildings and hurrying quickly to wherever they were headed. Cold flagstones, set in an old, almost medieval style, were underfoot, and what sunlight there was glinted off of the squat metal constructions that ringed the square. Just looking at it, the place seemed almost innocent; however Mara's trained eyes could see the inordinate amount of interest their shuttle was garnering from the windows of the nearest houses. She knew immediately that it would be stolen.

She heard the click of another button being pressed, and the precious shuttle became engulfed in a harsh red light, shimmering along the length of the shell with a deep, sonorous buzz. Mara gave an unseen grin and tightened her grip on Sander's arm; he had clearly thought of everything, and it would be fun to see how many corpses would be lying around the shuttle when they came back. He wasn't playing around, and that shield would kill a human brain on contact. 

Her head tilted thoughtfully, and she wondered briefly whether this trip would constitute a date for the two of them. He was taking her out, he'd clearly put some thought into it, she'd been given a nice gift of the coat alone, saying nothing of finally getting to beat the shit out of Walker... Sander was such a sweetheart.

He was directing her with a gentle pressure on one arm, the slow rate of their progress making it clear that he was watching his step to avoid making too much noise. It was probably best if nobody but Walker knew that they were here, and even in Walker's case it was preferable that he didn't know until they were right on top of him. 

The pair slipped quietly through a series of streets and alleys that were just as deserted as the plaza they had exited. The sky grew darker as the cloud cover thickened, matching Mara's blackening mood exactly. It was the cognitive dissonance that was making her maddest; she could remember, vividly, the day that Walker had left her and completely derailed her life. The day she had become a fugitive and basically an exile on all Terran worlds. But she also remembered Myriad, remembered how truly terrifying Walker had been, once his real predilections had come to light. Her heart pounded in her chest, the fear of the coming confrontation racing up and down her spine.

She had to do this, though. There was this drive that wouldn't allow her to give up, having come this close. It must be the same impulse that drove Sander to fight with the Doctor. She finally understood that part of him; that little revenge monster that bayed for blood. She could practically smell Walker, and she could feel her old razor-edged smile spread across her face. He might be scary, but when she found him, Walker was fucked.

Suddenly, she was being pulled to a stop. She turned to the space that she was fairly sure Sander was occupying, 'Are we here?'

His chuckle drifted out of the artificially warm air, 'We passed a man stabbing a corpse in the face in the last street. I know we're cloaked, but do you really think I would stop moving if we weren't here?'

'Maybe you needed to check your map or something,' Mara said slowly.

'You can't see it, but I'm waving an invisible arm in front of my invisible face, invisible Mara.'

'Point taken.'

'We are here, though,' Sander said, and Mara began to realize just how difficult it was to communicate in physical space without visual cues. She had gotten the feeling that Sander had gestured, but rather than upbraiding him for it, she recognized how hard this was. She tapped her invisibility module off.

'There's my beautiful girl,' Sander's unseen hand tousled her hair. At least, she hoped it was his hand.

'Charmer,' She accused. They were both avoiding having to plan this thing out.

'Am I going in with you?' Sander's voice was gentle, Mara smiled at the way he had phrased it; placing control of the situation back into her hands.

'You aren't,' She said smoothly. 'You're out in the cold, Hackett.'

'I want to watch your back.'

'You can't,' She closed her eyes. 'I know it's a cliché, but this really is something I need to do myself.'

'Then I'm waiting for you,' Was the simple reply. Mara nodded once, hoping it was at least vaguely in Sander's direction. She slipped silently through the open door of the building directly ahead of her. Her convection field crackled off when it detected the larger field enclosing the house, enveloping Mara in a more natural warmth.




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 15



Part of her wanted to call out, to swear and shout his name until he came running right into her closed fist. And that would be satisfying, in a way... But the truth was, she had no idea what she would do when she actually saw him. She forced herself to continue; thinking about it would just allow realism to intrude.

Once inside, Mara was startled at how normal Walker's home outwardly appeared to be. Of course, the operative word in that sentence was appeared; in the same way that when he had lived with her he had appeared to lack a criminal record. The place was well lit, homey even; a half empty cup of coffee on a table hinted at the fact that he was home. Good.

She slipped deeper into the house, her apprehension growing with each passing step. At a sudden, human sound, she froze, peering her head slowly around a corner. And there he was. Her hands clenched into fists, shaking with exertion. She moved out from cover.

'Walker,' The word had no inflection, no emotive edge to color it. It just was; a simple method of attracting Walker's attention. He turned at the sound. He looked the same as before.

Oh, he had gotten older. But then again, so had she. And she could tell that he, at least, hadn't changed all that much, whereas he had forced her to change completely.

The same blond hair shorn close to his head, the same oddly dead brown eyes, staring out from a face that was always smiling. The effect was odd, like his head was arguing with itself. He was still devastatingly handsome, though, in that vaguely uncomfortable way of a distinctly crazy person with a pretty face. The tight shirt he was wearing left Mara in no doubt that nothing had changed there either; he had always been frighteningly strong.

And there was that hollow, cold realization that, when it came right down to it, Walker did look a lot like Sander. Some strained part of her mind whimpered at that, shuddered and curled up into a ball, gave her a lump in her throat. She could only cling to her knowledge that the similarities were just skin deep. They had to be, or else when Sander...

No, it didn't bear thinking about. Not now.

Walker's eyes narrowed as he turned from his workbench and caught sight of her. Slowly, his head tilted to one side, 'Mara?'

She nodded, not trusting her voice. Across the room, Walker's face split into a wide grin, and suddenly she wanted more distance between the two of them. He had always been totally unflappable, damn him...

'Well, well... Hello again, little dove,' He said slowly, voice like oil on water. 'It's been something of a long time, hasn't it? You've been out of my sight for quite a while.'

'Don't call me by that name,' She managed to say, falteringly, with her voice twanging with rage. 

'You liked it last time,' Walker pouted. 'When I whispered it in your ear at night, you used to scream...' He caught sight of her expression and looked away, 'But I suppose things change, don't they, little dove?'

'You haven't,' Mara said weakly. Her back was against the wall, she knew it. Damn it, why was this so hard?

'Why are you here, Mara Syfte?' Walker turned back to whatever he had been doing before she interrupted him. Mara got the distinct idea that she didn't want to know what it was. He continued, 'It's been thirteen years since you abandoned me-'

'Abandoned YOU?!' This time her voice came out strong, screaming out from her throat and obliterating the lump that had been there before. 'Abandoned you!'

'You left the planet, little dove. Left me all alone, left me to run all by my lonesome.'

'As I recall,' Mara ground out, snarling each word. 'You left Vesperia first, Walker. As I fucking recall, you left me to take the rap for your little extracurricular activities.'

'Ah, yes,' Walker nodded sullenly. 'That might be true... My memory was never that accurate. In any case, I do hope you haven't come a-calling to sate some lust for revenge. That's quite a dull notion, and I do so get tired of people trying to kill me.'

'I'm only here to deck you, Walker,' Mara said, the words seeming hollow now that she was saying them to him. 'You're the murderer here, not me.' 

'Yes I am,' Walker turned suddenly, the cool, devastating lines of a pistol trailing absently from a pair of fingers. 'Do you think there's something about me you forgot to keep in mind when you were planning to come here?'

Mara felt her blood thin in her veins. She felt light, like she was filled with helium. Truthfully, she had forgotten, or at least assumed that, since they had a past, he wouldn't try to kill her. This idea clashed directly with the cold, instinctive knowledge that, on the list of Walker's victims, much of the top of that list probably shared his last name.

The pistol flipped idly from hand to hand, Walker's eyes following it, almost spellbound, 'Now, this isn't usually my style. Lacks intimacy. But if I'm one thing, it's flexible. I think you should remember that, my Mara.' She shuddered at the suddenly possessive tone of his voice, but there was nowhere to run. No time even to think. 

'Actually...' Walker continued, 'Why rush things? You and I, we used to have something. I'm thinking I'd like to rekindle that. What do you think, little dove? Before I end you, do you think I can make you scream like I used to? Can I make you mine again?'

He stepped forward, just slightly, but it was enough to make Mara squeak. Some tough part of her mind wondered when she had become so weak, but it was quickly drowned out by paralyzing terror. And then Sander was there.

He burst back into visibility, throwing all of his weight into Walker so that he stumbled back against the worktop with an incoherent cry of surprise. Suddenly, Walker was face to face with a pair of eyes that glowed with shaking, deadly fury. Sander's voice was like molten lead, dripping out from between clenched teeth with a force of feeling so deep and fervent that it was a wonder the word itself didn't break his teeth.

'Mine!' 

The word was possessive, protective, deeply angry; like the growl of an alpha wolf. His hands shook, slammed onto the counter at either side of Walker's head. Mara felt her heart skip a beat; had he always been so sexy?

Walker was stunned for a moment, mouth open but no words coming out. But he quickly regained his senses and opted for action over words; his pistol pressed into Sander's stomach, and he pulled the trigger. 

Nothing happened. 

Walker tried again. Nothing happened.

Sander's eyes still roiled darkly, but he spoke again in a deep voice vibrating with rage, 'You see, I've had a gun pointed at me before, Walker Ichihara. There's no other feeling like it, the way your guts turn to water. That's the feeling of somebody else holding your life in their hands. I didn't like it. Can you blame me for developing a little toy to stop repeat performances? Do you like it? Zero point field. Anything comes at me above a certain speed threshold, it stops.'

'Sander...' Mara quavered.

'Little dove, who is this man? Your new squeeze? New little boy toy?' Walker gave a rumbling laugh deep in his throat. Sander's fist slammed into his face hard enough to rob him of that laughter.

'Who am I? Excellent question!' Sander threw his arms wide. 'I am Sander Hackett. You may have heard of me, most humans have. I survived the Vesperian rebellion, and I just got through getting soundly beaten by one of the most dangerous beings in the universe, which should illustrate to you my commitment to staying alive. I don't always win the battles I fight, but I always survive. I keep going, Walker. Remember that: I keep going,' Sander's voice blazed with the threat of imminent violence. His eyes narrowed, and he looked for all the world like someone about to become a murderer. 'It's nice to meet you! I'm Sander motherfucking Hackett. I'm what you'd call the worst case scenario. Fuck with Mara again... Well, it's not a good career move. Basically... Run.'

Mara blinked in surprise, a thrill of deeply felt excitement running through her as Sander deliberately referenced the Doctor, of all people. Somehow, it made him seem even more impressive. He stepped away, reactivated his cloaking module, and Mara was treated to a rarely seen occurrence; exactly one half of a total ass kicking. Despite only seeing the effects of Sander's blows, Mara applauded wildly as Walker ended up sprawled on the floor. The gun disappeared from view into an invisible pocket, and Sander's voice sliced out of the air.

'I'll be waiting for you.'

Mara squeaked an unsteady noise to the affirmative, and Sander knocked on the wall closest to the door to signal that he was gone. Her legs shook, but she would be hard pressed to tell whether that was from fear of Walker or attraction to this new Action Sander. She quickly recovered, and walked over to Walker's prostrate form, cracking her knuckles speculatively.

'Oh my, Walker dearest,' She sang meanly. 'I don't think I'm going to be quite as nice as my boyfriend was. I ain't going to lie, this is going to be unpleasant for you.'

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

Minutes later, Mara skipped lightly out into the cold, coat wrapped tightly around her. Sander's voice slid out of the ether at her approach, 'That was quick.'

'We are not good people,' Mara shook her head and shrugged. Sander should know better than most how inventive she could be in her evil.

'Neither is Walker, but what do you want from us? We're the villains, Mara.'

'Yes, we are. And as to what I want from you, Sander Hackett... Maybe we should retire to that happily abandoned alley.'

'What does that mean?'

'I think it means that I want to fuck you in an alley, Sander. Because I'm nasty.'

'Invisible sex?' Sander said incredulously. 'Well, it'd certainly be a new experience- hey!'

Mara had taken the opportunity to cloak herself, locate the source of his voice and grab him by the collar and physically drag him into a secluded place. She was glad he couldn't see her, because something in that performance inside had gotten her very flustered; that had been something else. And besides, she was always open to new experiences. 

For a moment, there was nothing to be seen except a trail of footprints crunching through the sparse covering of snow, marking a ragged trail as though two people were stumbling forwards. Light, airy, feminine giggling could be heard, followed by a heavy thud, as though a body had been pressed up against a wall. In an alley a little ways off, the ice on one wall began to rapidly thaw, set to a soundtrack of heated, increasingly frantic moaning. The volume of the giggling only increased, before it faded away entirely, replaced exclusively by the sounds of pleasure. A circular trench of shuffling, swaying footprints developed in the seclusion of the alley, slowly deepening and filling with melting ice. 

Mara only stayed in Sander's arms for a short moment; possibly only just long enough to readjust her clothes and get everything in order again. She chuckled, just once by his ear, and then she was grabbing his hand and leading him back to the shuttle. Now that she had accomplished her mission, and gotten over this hot new fascination with Sander- at least for now- she just wanted to get off this planet as soon as possible. She wasn't even surprised to see a ring of dead would-be shuttle jackers lining the landing pad. 

Some people would never learn...

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

The shuttle flight, landing and disembarkation went as well as one could have expected, with Mara's newly buoyantly light mood making everything just that little bit more entertaining. She joked almost constantly, with Sander's smile never seeming anything less that genuinely amused. If he was tired, he didn't show it, despite the many hours put into this little manhunt to begin with. 

And Mara was feeling a barely familiar stirring deep within her, something she hadn't cared to indulge in for a long time. Well, Sander had given a convincing performance; it might be fun to try it with him...

When she led him to his- their- room, he actually rolled his eyes at her and called her predictable. Well, Mara was fairly sure he wouldn't be expecting what she would ask him to do. He was always so nice to her, but watching him with Amy, she knew he was capable of it. He wouldn't disappoint, she was sure.

Mara tipped him backwards onto his bed, then knelt by his feet. Now faced with the prospect of actually having to vocalize what she wanted, Mara was uncharacteristically uncomfortable, and found herself unable to meet Sander's gaze.

'What's up?' He sounded a mite concerned.

'Thank you. For earlier,' She said in a small voice. 'You were really impressive back there. All forceful and angry... It was kind of hot.'

'You showed me you felt that way, yes,' Sander shrugged. 

'Sander, I... Um' Mara's voice faltered and fell away, her eyes drifted away from Sander's. She shifted her weight in agitation, chewing her lip; something in her was being incredibly difficult, and wouldn't allow her to simply ask the question that was weighing on her mind. She frowned, and her eyes caught Sander's for a single moment before dashing away with a tiny, half-formed squeak on her lips.

But he was watching her closely; a spark of recognition crossed his features. He gave a soft little laugh and reached out to gently stroke Mara's cheek, 'Mara, I think I know what you want.'

'You do?'

Silently, Sander stroked his chin and leaned back, a thoughtful frown developing on his face. He tried to call on the manic, rushing energy he had used on Amy; hoped he could summon it when it was needed. When he looked back at her, his eyes were unreadable, 'Take off your clothes.'

Mara felt a shiver go down her spine at the bluntness of the order. Okay, so Sander did understand; her eyes widened in unbidden surprise, her tongue stilled from the half-hearted protest she had been planning to offer. Her heart pounded in her chest as Sander sat watching, face impassive, unyielding and, frankly, expectant. She stood and quickly stripped off her thermal coat and the simple dress she had worn underneath. She never caught his abstract, faraway gaze, and when she was naked she dropped to her knees again, feeling it was somehow necessary. Sander smirked.

'This is kind of a nice change, don't you think?' He grinned, weaving the fingers of one hand through her hair. 'I mean, usually I'm struggling to keep up with you, and I suppose I still am, when you go and do something unexpected like this. I'd ask why-'

'Because it's fun, Sander. You know from experience.'

'Sure,' His fingers trailed the curve of her cheek until he was holding her chin in his palm. 'I do know. But you... You were awfully accommodating when you were in the driver's seat.'

'Because you'd never done anything like that before,' Mara said hoarsely, her skin prickling under his touch. This was so working for her, just staring into the fires of his eyes while he held her still, 'Wanted to start you off slow. With me-'

'There's no need, since you're so experienced,' There was a vague mocking tone to his words. 'You want me to use you? Take you, make you do what I want, and don't hold back?'

'That's the idea, Hackett,' A quivering smile washed across her face, vaguely encouraging while at the same time loaded with trepidation. Sander didn't usually sound like this.

'Well then...' His eyes flickered curiously. 'Tell me you love me.'

'What?'

His eyes shut, closing off his thoughts from her, as though she wasn't worth eye contact, 'You heard me. I've been saying it to you all the time now, but you never say it back. In fact, the one time you did, I had to prod you there, too. Well, you've said you'll do what I want, so I'll damn well hear it from you now, Mara. So say it.'

He was still holding her chin, and when her mouth opened, it took a while for the sound to come out, 'I do love you.'

'Again.'

When she paused and shot him a confused look, his fingers tightened on her chin, so hard as to be painful, 'Again.'

'I... I love you!' She choked. 'Sander-'

'Once more.'

'I... Love you...' Her voice dwindled away to nothing with a sob. A few tears rolled down her cheeks as Sander released her, firing himself up from the bed to pace the room, his back to her.

'Why is this so hard for you?' He growled, voice shaking with rage and something else...

'Sander... Don't go there,' Mara warned, her voice the smallest it had ever been. She eyed the floor between her legs, shoulders shaking. Damn it, she hated crying!

'No! Fuck you, Mara!' He was suddenly behind her, hands clasping her shoulders, face right beside hers. 'I asked a goddamn question, and you're going to fucking answer it right now! Because if you're just screwing with me for a laugh, I'd rather you just left-'

'It's because you'll leave me!' She screamed, not daring to look in his eyes. 'Like everyone else! Nobody can handle me for long without leaving...' She snarled with a bitter sob. 'Walker leaves... Dad leaves... Sisters leave... Everybody always does. Do you know, I've never had a continuous relationship with anyone?'

It was a terrible, frozen moment for the girl. Her soul was bared, so easily, her deepest fear aired for the man to see. And he just stood there, staring, motionless. The girl could feel her heart breaking; once again, she was too much work for the one she loved to bother with. What had she done?

She gasped as strong arms wrapped around her, his palms resting on either shoulder. She was still on her knees, so even this gesture of affection led to him towering over her, bent at the waist to get to her level. Normally he would have done something; hugged her close, kissed her, whispered sweet reassurances in her ear. But that wasn't the game now; they'd both travelled beyond that the moment he'd made her cross her most deeply entrenched internal line. 

So instead, one hand molded to her shoulder, the other slipped down over the curve of her breast to toy with one nipple, rolling it between his fingers. She gasped again at that, and he laid his chin on her free shoulder, eyes staring resolutely ahead.

He spoke, 'You drive me nuts, you know that?'

'Yes,' She answered softly, her voice quavering slightly as he teased her nipple to full hardness.

'You make me insane, you drive me wild, I just wanna take a bite out of you every time I see you. Understand?'

'Yes,' She whimpered, not daring to look at him. Her soul still throbbed in anguish, but it was joined by another throbbing, from lower down. Sander switched breasts, and her sharp intake of breath indicated that he was doing it right.

'I love you to death, yes?'

'Yes.' Mesmerized.

'And you know I'm never going to leave you, right?' His voice thrummed with a deeply powerful harmonic that brooked no opposition. And the only possible answer was...

'Yes,' She spoke the truth. The beginnings of a moan, deep in her throat.

'Good!' Sander exclaimed, flicking her painfully on the forehead. His teasing ceased in the same moment, and Mara arched her back and began to complain, both at the demeaning pain and the sudden lack of his touch. 'Idiot!'

'Sander-'

'No, shut up! Eleven years, Mara!' Sander growled right by her ear. 'I had eleven years to dump your ass. And you think that now, now, just when we're getting to know each other, I'm going to let you go? No. You're all mine now, and I'm not letting you out of my sight,' His hands returned to their stroking game, just momentarily. She moaned, and he spoke again, 'We keep playing.'




Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 15



Sander stood, pacing the floor in front of the kneeling blonde and stroking his chin, 'Now that your foolish notions are well and truly dispelled...' He skewered her with a harsh stare, 'I want you wet, Mara. Dripping.'

Her face flushed, her head dropped low. Oh, it had been a while since she had felt this way...

'I... I already am,' She stammered, feeling the heat rise higher in her cheeks. 

Sander grinned, laughed lightly at her embarrassment. It wasn't like her to be ashamed of something like this, but clearly she had changed headspaces. Hot.

'Aren't you a slutty girl?' He taunted, mind wheeling to keep up with the game. 'Prove it.'

She hesitated, lips pursed and cheeks reddened, just momentarily. Sander took a step forward, 'Fine, I'll check for myself.'

She whimpered, feeling a shudder rock her very core. Her fingers shook as she dipped them between her legs, into her dampness. She withdrew them and, pouting, presented her glistening digits for Sander's approval. His grin widened, her blush deepened, eyes trapped in his attentions. He took firm hold of her wrist and guided her moist fingers to her mouth, pressing them against her lips until she reluctantly granted them entry. The taste of her cunt dripped onto her tongue, causing her nose to wrinkle, and she obediently licked her fingers clean. 

'Aww, didn't like that?' Sander was clearly going to be vocal in this position. Normally Mara had no need of talk in this game, but each jab from him sent a hot thrill down her spine, and it was only making her wetter. She sort of hoped he wouldn't notice. He seemed so powerful now... She knew that he would.

She was swept up in the penetrating nature of his stare as it burned a path right through her mind. To look away would be unthinkable. Sander had never seen her eyes like this before, perfectly blue and sparkling and vulnerable, almost fearful. Almost; there was something in there, a fascination that called to him, sent a deep well of arousal boring down into him. Right now, she would do what she was told. How rare. How... hot.

His middle finger traced down her tummy, making her abs twitch under his tickling touch. She stayed frozen, afraid of what his eyes would show if she moved, afraid of displeasing him... If he stopped now, he could leave her here, bereft. She wouldn't dare complain...

'My god you've got a beautiful body...' He breathed, finger drifting lower, above her hips, so close to her quivering pussy. She tried not to twitch as his touch stopped, fingertips circling playfully through her light hair covering. 'And it's all mine.'

'Mm, yes...' She moaned in a dreamy voice, his fingers just inches from her throbbing clit. He hadn't even touched her properly yet, and she was putty in his hands!

She dared a glance at Sander's expression, and immediately regretted saying anything. The word had just slipped out, a mindless admission borne of frustration and arousal. But Sander was wearing his delight openly, his smile turning vicious; he smelled blood.

'I like that,' He said slowly. 'Keep talking.'

'Sander, no... Please...' This last little kernel of pride was a part of the game too; something for him to take from her, to fight against. It was important.

He flicked her sensitive bead, the pure agonized pleasure rumbling through her with the suddenness of a thunderclap. She cried out, harsh and long as her body shook with the blow, breasts bouncing so invitingly that Sander had to take the opportunity. He gripped one nipple between thumb and forefinger and squeezed, just on the edge of painfully. She gave a high, reedy moan.

'You don't say no to me,' Sander growled, tugging lightly. 'Now sing for me, little dove,' She gasped in indignation at the familiar pet name, but her cunt twitched, spasming hotly. He should not be able to play her like this...

'Sander, please...'

Sander's grip on her breast tightened, the pain tearing through her chest. His other hand lightly brushed her clit, sending a competing signal to clash confusingly with the discomfort, 'Come on, Mara... Talk to me.' He hissed violently, with a dark look. Mara groaned out a long, unsteady breath in response, finding her capacity for words suddenly torn away from her. Her eyes welled with humiliated tears, she shook her head with a pathetic, tiny whimper. Sander twisted her nipple between his fingers. She yelped.

'You're mine, you know this,' He snarled. 'Say it!'

She gritted her teeth against the burning in her breast, resistance crumbling, 'I... I'm yours!' She gasped, 'My body! All yours! Do w-whatever you want... All yours... Your c-cunt, your tits, your ass, your mouth... Your Mara! J-just please, Sander!... T-touch me...' She was tearing up in frustration. 'Oh god!'

Knuckle by knuckle, the inside of his middle finger slid firmly down her tender clit, sending sparks flying in front of Mara's eyes. He penetrated her, the skin of his palm rubbing back and forth across her engorged nub, spreading the fire through her faster. He slid deeper, curling his finger through her slick hole.

'That's a good little bitch,' He said solemnly. 'Moan for me.'

She did. She had no choice; his touch made her melt like ice in a blast furnace, dripping around his hand and shuddering madly. Her calves were almost numb from her extended kneeling, but they bucked as she fucked herself insensibly on Sander's fingers, moaning like a whore, cheeks blushed bright red as that little kernel of pride cracked.

Sander's thumb teased her petalled outer lips unbearably as his fingers disappeared inside Mara's aching cunt, the sheer heat of it astounding to him. She groaned roughly to the tempo of her frantic fingering, barely even noticing when he kissed her and swallowed her screams.

And then his fingers were gone, so suddenly that she gasped in surprise and disappointment. To be pulled away from the edge she had been so close to tumbling over...

'Now, now, Mara,' Sander admonished. 'Don't cum just yet. Not without permission, anyway,' He sighed and rolled his eyes. 'Really, it's not even worth making you beg for it just yet. I'd rather just toy with you.'

She whimpered helplessly, fingers curling into fists in her lap. Sander's moist fingers wavered before her eyes, the scent of her own arousal filling her nose. Unbidden, her lips parted and her tongue slipped out, lapping her juices from his hand; she could feel Sander's barely controlled twinge of lust at this, and smiled. This, and the increasingly impressive bulge in his jeans, indicated that she was having more of an effect on him than she previously realized. He seemed very interested in the way her tongue flicked against his skin...

'Okay, enough,' He shook his head violently. 'Stand up.'

Mara's legs were surprisingly weak, her calves and feet tingling numbly from her time on her knees, and she stumbled and pulled herself upright by using Sander as leverage. He smirked, took her wrists in his hands and swept her over to the bed, guiding her needy, unresisting form down onto her back. 

'Stay put,' He said in a low voice, crossing to the other side of the bed, to the nightstand that Mara had taken to using since moving into his room. There was the sound of a drawer opening, and he laughed softly, 'As I thought.'

Mara's eyes widened, and she made a little noise, but didn't dare move. Two sets of handcuffs twinkled silver in the artificial light as Sander twirled them around one crooked finger. One pair was flicked into the air and caught, the cuff opening in his single deft movement. Seconds later, it clicked closed around Mara's wrist, the other cuff closing around a part of the large metal headboard. Then the process was repeated for her other wrist.

'As hugely entertaining as this is, why are there two pairs of handcuffs?' Sander said softly, his face inches from hers. One finger traced around her navel, and her entire lower body bucked against his maddening touch.

'To do what you're doing to me right now,' She answered hoarsely, swallowing. 

He kissed her forehead, 'Just with the positions reversed, hmm?' She felt his hand slip lower, the fact that she couldn't see what he was doing to her around his body somehow more frustrating than the act itself. She groaned, long and loud, as his digits slid back inside her wet, hot cunt, fucking her slowly. Although Sander had stopped her from cumming earlier, she hadn't been given that much time to cool off, and she was already rapidly approaching that precipice again; certain in the knowledge that she wasn't allowed to cum unless she begged for it. Her teeth gritted in frustration.

She tried not to irritate him by struggling, tried to remain limp in her restraints and let the sensations wash over her and carry her away. But what he was doing to her wasn't that gentle. It was a teasing, terrible, addictive, cumulative feeling that swelled in her hips and stomach. And when he brushed her clit, she yelped and pulled on her cuffs, trying to catch his eyes with a pleading stare. He wasn't even looking at her.

His gaze was lower, watching his hand between her legs. Three fingers were inside her, fucking her, stretching her, rubbing unbearably against every itching, sensitive spot. She was a shivering, powerless mess, able to do nothing but squeal at every thrust of his fingers, feel her toes curl and desperately cast her mind around for anything to think about to take her mind off her brewing, cataclysmic climax. 

Slowly, his head dipped lower, a truly wicked grin on his face that simultaneously terrified her and made her melt just a little more. His eyes were on hers as his tongue left his mouth, brushing gently against the skin of her stomach as his fingers fucked her deeply. She gave a rattling moan and pulled her wrists against the restraints.

'No! No, no, please!' She begged breathlessly, shaking her head. Her pleading was ripped from her throat as Sander's mouth drifted gradually further down, planting a series of blistering kisses on her skin, stopping at the inside of one quivering thigh. His breath tickled her; she could move, kick out, stop him. She wouldn't dare.

His fingers slid out until only the tips remained, wriggling gently at her opening. His mouth opened, terrible words coming out, 'But you taste so good.' And then he licked her clit, the hot, wet roughness of his tongue making her shriek and buck her hips. Orgasm loomed horribly close, and what was left of her mind pushed it down madly. 

'It's too much! No more- UGH!' Mara cried out desperately as his fingers twitched and he sucked forcefully at her most sensitive of places. She bit her lip hard, hoping to distract herself with the pain, 'Please, Sander! Please!'

'What is it that you want, Mara?' His mouth was still so close to her frothing pussy, his breath teasing her clit with agonizing precision. His eyes bored into hers as frustrated tears dripped down her cheeks.

'I need it, Sander,' She pleaded in a shaking voice as another gust of hot breath swept over her clit. 'Please... I need to cum. Please make me cum.'

Rapidly, he slid up her body, one hand racing to his fly. He was above her quickly, his pants around his ankles and his own aching arousal positioned between her legs. He growled, 'You want this? Want me to fuck you 'til you can't see straight?'

The words scorched her mind, and she twisted her hips, desperate to have him in her. But he was still just out of reach, the burning heat of his tip brushing against her slick outer folds. He would have her say it first, 'Please, fuck me, Sander! For god's sake, I'm so close... Anything you want, just do me!'

'You want it? ' He snarled roughly. 'Then take it!'

Mara howled at the tearing, blissful feeling of fullness as Sander's length pushed into her all at once. Her eyes screwed shut as he buried himself in her heat, his own masculine groans of pleasure mixing with her single, earth-shattering screech. Her rationality was gone, her body was his, her ego was obliterated in that one shining moment; the tightening leash of his pleasure. Just one leaden fact remained branded in her mind: Don't cum.

But her body was screaming out for the release; it made her wrap her legs around him, made her offer up her tits for him to grab so roughly that it hurt and she begged for more of it, made her fists clench so tightly she was sure her nails were cutting into her palms. Her voice went hoarse as she screamed his name, over and over in time with every incredible, apocalyptic thrust. 

She realized, joyfully, that he was growling her name too; long, explosive exhalations to her that slammed into her soul at full force and made her weep at the sheer animal affection in every syllable. Her wrists were red raw, the bed below her was damp from her sweat and juices, her entire body ached with desperate need, her desire to reach up to the man above her and kiss him and rake her nails down his back was going frustratingly unfulfilled... and she had to come soon, or she would pass out.

'P-please...' Her voice juddered with every powerful thrust. Her head bashed against the headboard, but even that was oddly pleasurable in this light filled, egoless space. She was begging, pleading, promising him every filthy, wonderful act she could imagine, and he was listening, chuckling at each increasingly frantic pledge. He silenced her with a deep kiss, plundering her mouth and swallowing the long, high-pitched whimper that followed as every muscle in her lower body clenched tight to suppress her orgasm.

'Cum, Mara!' Sander's voice roared through her, filled with the deepest commitment she had ever heard. Everything in her clamped down on her lover, her master, her slave, her Sander. She liquefied, melting into him with every fiber of her being.

She was screaming, she had to be. No matter how powerful, no orgasm could feel like a punch in the chest. It had to be lack of air.

He was screaming. He had to be. No matter how powerful, no orgasm made a sound like the roar of an animal. It had to be Sander.

Her orgasm- their orgasm- wrapped around them like a cocoon made of fire. He was filling her with his seed, but she was burning, insensible to the outside world. All that mattered was the ripping, shrieking, scalding ecstasy that made her vision blur and her muscles clench. The moment stretched on for eternity, Sander's hot exhalations on her face, the seemingly monolithic power of his erection nestled within her molten depths... She craned her neck, desperate to kiss him, taste him, thank him. Their mouths collided, tongues together... Everything together. 

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

He had unchained her quickly. Well, as soon as he was able to stand under his own power again. She hadn't even waited for the cuffs to leave her wrists before she entwined herself with him, laughing and sobbing and anxious for his touch. And he gave it to her gladly, wrapping himself up in her in the oddly vital silence that ensued. 

Mara had never been one for cuddling, but right now the two of them had gravity, and were trapped in each other's orbit. She was sure she was still shaking.

'Holy fuck...' She mentally kicked herself. Those were not the most elegant words...

'Incredible...' Sander said softly as they both came down.

'Yeah... I am,' Mara grinned.

'You are,' They kissed, gently, tenderly. All the force had drained out of them; the proof of it was soaking the bed beneath them but right now they were so suffused with soft exhaustion that it was hard to imagine it was ever there to begin with. 

'I love you,' Mara whispered, nuzzling his neck. Fireworks went off in his mind as his entire being celebrated. The way he hugged her closer, pushing every available inch of her skin against him made the need for words from him obsolete. She giggled. He laughed.

Hours went by, filled with utter silence as they lay there, almost motionless; occasionally asleep, sometimes awake, never speaking, never out of physical contact with the other. The moon rose in the window and the lights switched of automatically, filling the room with soft, pearlescent white moonlight. They were at the point in their orbit where they were closest to the moon, and its pure, silvery light made the moment perfect. 

'Sander...' Her voice was languid, almost dropping out of the air the moment it left her mouth.

'Mara.' 

'What are you planning?'

He smiled gently, 'Something big. Bigger than anything we've ever done before.' His foot pushed against hers, and she pushed back. This had never been one of her favorite things, but right now she was perfectly willing to play footsie with him.

She made a sultry little noise, 'Hmm... I like big things.'

'Tell me about it,' He grinned.

'No, you tell me about it,' Mara poked him. 'Are we getting Amy back?'

'Yes we are,' He nodded. 'But we'll be able to do so much more. In fact, I think we'll need more space. Do you feel like moving?'

Mara looked around the gunmetal grey bedroom, where every surface was artificially heated metal, and the only softness in the room was provided by the bed and the large rug that Sander had spread across the floor. She could only imagine how unpleasant it would be to wake up and have to place her feet directly on the frigid metal floor.

'That's a great idea, my Sander,' She said. 'This place...'

'Perfectly good for furtive plotting, but you deserve something better,' Sander glanced at her.

'Took the words right out of my mouth.'

He grinned wickedly, 'There's plenty of other things I could do with your mouth...'

Mara rolled her eyes, 'Promises, promises.'

'Later, though,' Sander said. 'I think I know the perfect place. But there's something you need to do, too...'

'Oh, tell me,' She moaned, only partly joking.

'An integrated communications array that's compatible with a large-scale info-drive and the temporal displacement device here at the base,' He laughed, somehow making a detailed technical explanation sound wonderfully warm.

'I can do that,' Mara answered, a little disappointed. 'It won't be easy, at that scale, but I can do it.'

'Because you're the best,' Sander pulled her over to him, forcing a kiss on her that she quickly dissolved into. Thoughts of plans, of the Doctor and of Amy fell away. They could come later, when the two of them could think straight and everything wasn't so warm. Right now, they were beyond revenge, beyond the rage, beyond even the kink and chains and submission. It was an austere, perfect moment. 

Perfect moments don't come along very often, and when they do...

They must be lived.



Doctor Who: Amy, Captured



Amy whimpered as Sander slid his knife into the waistband of her panties, slicing through the delicate material like it wasn't there. It was the work of but a moment to finish disrobing the helpless girl.

'So pretty...' Sander murmured. 'Spread her.'

Mara skipped away with predatory glee and tapped at a few more buttons. The metal of the shackle around Amy's leg went liquid and split into two as her legs were slowly impelled apart, revealing her pussy to the three captors and the camera beyond them. Fresh tears came to Amy's eyes as she realized that she was not only being exposed to these three strangers, but to the Doctor and Rory also.

Amy's pussy was neat, her dappling of orange hair trimmed back so that it hung neatly over her sweet pink slit. Her outer lips had petalled and spread as her captors had molested her, and if Sander craned his neck downwards he could just see her clit popped slightly from its hood.

When she was naked like this, Amy Pond was truly a work of art, positively statuesque. Sander had seen much of the universe in his lifetime, and had previously thought that there was no god. A naked Amy Pond, however, presented a strong case for some form of intelligent design, at least. Sander looked at what he had wrought; this unbelievable girl, spread naked and helpless before him like a buffet table of carnal delights, his two assistants staring at Amy with expressions Sander could only characterize as "hungry," and, best of all, the unseen audience unable to stop the violation from continuing. 

Silently, Sander reached for his fly. His zipper descended, and he fished out his hungry cock, already erect at a solid seven inches. This was the moment he had been waiting for; the point of no return. 

Amy struggled against her shackles as Sander approached, her moans becoming more plaintive and strident as he pressed the head of his cock against her vulnerable opening. Mara let out a manic little giggle as Sander stood, the tip of his penis pressed into her moist folds, his head held high. He reached out, over the delectable peaks and valleys of Amy's body, and pulled the gag from her mouth. It was good that the camera should hear her crying out as he fucked her.

'No, no, no, please no,' Amy gabbled rapidly as her sore jaw was allowed to close. 'Don't do this to me...'

'If you play with the Doctor, you get hurt,' Sander said, acid positively dripping from his voice. 'You're just another victim of his obsession with fixing those he deems to be broken. Like my wife. Like Mara's girlfriend, or Shimizu's wife, and countless others that died in the rebellion. But look on the bright side, dear Amy Pond: at least you'll live through this.'

Sander stood motionless, savoring the moment, listening to Amy's sweetly deep breathing, looking into her liquid brown eyes as they pleaded with him. Then he pushed forward.

His dick slid smoothly into Amy's wet depths. He was slightly surprised to find that she was a little wet already; her body having reacted to being touched by the three strangers. She gave a long whimper as Sander penetrated her, shaking her head from side to side.

'Please stop...' She sobbed.

He began to screw her slowly, drawing the length of his cock in and out, scraping against her most sensitive places. Despite all his talk of revenge, Sander found Amy almost unbearably hot, and it was difficult not to just go to town on her and fuck her as hard as he wanted. But that could come later. There was so much that lay in their collective future; Sander, his assistants and their precious captive. Now was the time to take it slowly, get to know the ins and outs of Amy's body, and then use them against her to make her cum. 

Sander grinned inwardly.

Outwardly, his lust-filled eyes bored deep into Amy's as he kept the fingers of one hand threaded into her hair, forcing her to look at him. Occasionally his thumb would press against her lips, trying to slip into her mouth. She guarded against this new intrusion, but it was no use against the vastly better positioned Sander, who would slip past her succulent lips to press against the silken wetness of her tongue. She would attempt to repel him with tiny "Mmm!" sounds, but the idea had been planted in Sander's mind. He would enjoy seeing what other uses her mouth could be put to in the future.

At every stroke, the slight curvature of Sander's cock would brush against a spot deep inside Amy's pussy that sent bolts of fiery pleasure up her spine. She fought against it, setting her jaw and tightening the muscles in her legs to avoid reacting to the blooming ecstasy. But a particularly deep thrust betrayed all that; the head of Sander's cock rubbed deep inside her, and Amy moaned involuntarily, her hips bucking to meet Sander's.

There was a moment of stunned silence as the three jailers glanced at one another and tried unsuccessfully to stifle fits of giggling, 'Well, well...' Sander grinned.

His free hand slipped down between Amy's legs. She tried to turn her hips away from his encroaching fingers, to no avail. His thumb found her clit, and pressed down, hard. Amy screamed.

'Ooh, I like that sound,' Mara laughed. Sander nodded in agreement, and the game was on.

With a skill that surprised Mara and Shimizu, Sander began to tease Amy mercilessly. His fucking slowed even further, taking his strokes longer and as deep as he could into her swollen depths. Every movement inside Amy was a blaze of sexual agony, and the muscles of her thighs clenched uselessly. Her litany of moans and whimpers grew louder, music to her captor's ears. And through it all, Sander kept up a gentle, fluttering stroking of her enflamed clitoris. 

'No... No- Uh! No more!' Amy moaned breathlessly. 'I can't take it!'

'No more what, Amy?' Shimizu asked impassively.

Amy clenched her teeth and closed her eyes as the incessant stroking and fucking continued, 'No more of... Of this, Ahh! I need... I need- Oh!'

Mara smiled and leaned in close to Amy's ear, 'You need what, slut?'

'You know!' Amy cried, and then cried out again as Sander pressed hard on her tender button.

'I'm afraid I don't, Amy,' Sander grunted. 'You'd better say it, if you need it.'

Mara gave a little giggle, clearly immensely entertained by this exercise. Shimizu followed suit.

'Oh, fine!' Amy yelled. 'I need to cum! Is that what you wanted, you sick fucks!'

'That's great, Amy. Your body is much more receptive than I would have hoped, given the circumstances,' Sander smiled kindly. 'But you're going to have to beg for it, if you want to cum.'

'I don't want to cum,' Amy hissed. 'I don't want you fucking me at all. I need to, and you're not letting me. I won't beg for you to keep raping me.'

'That's fine,' Sander shrugged. 'But I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing until you do beg. I can go all day, it's up to you to tell me what you want, sweetheart.'

She held on for a few minutes more, her muscles drawn tight as bowstrings and her teeth clenched to prevent herself from moaning. It got to the point that Sander didn't know how long he would be able to hold out himself. But just before he let himself go, fresh tears sprang to Amy's eyes, and she screamed in frustration.

'Ah! Fine! I'm begging! Let me cum! Please, please, please let me cum, you fuckers! I'll do anything!' She screamed.

'Well, since you asked so nicely...' Sander laughed as her cheeks burned with shame below him. He gripped her clit roughly between thumb and forefinger and flicked it hard, driving his cock into her with everything he had. She shrieked as the floodgates opened, her hips bucking and thrashing wildly as her eyes rolled up into her head. 

Her screams rattled the window as she was consumed body and soul by the most intense orgasm of her young life. It was like someone had poured hot lava into her clit. She was lost in it, and was only dimly aware when Sander came too, unloading shot after shot of his seed deep inside her. She didn't think it was possible, but her cheeks flushed even hotter.

She came down slowly, breathing deeply and rapidly, her muscles slowly relaxing as she slumped back against the table. Sander slipped out of her as Mara and Shimizu cheered and high-fived each other. Their glee was infectious, and Sander found himself grinning from ear to ear.

'Oh... You bastards...' Amy whispered weakly, her eyes closing as tears rolled down her cheeks.

'Aww, wasn't that fun, pet?' Sander cooed in her ear, licking a tear from her cheek. 'Did we get it, Mara?'

'Yes, sir. We now have a perfectly viable map of Amy Pond's brain in a sexually aroused state.'

'Perfect!' Sander clapped his hands together. 'Combine that with the template for anger, fear and the baseline that we already have, and...'

'We can begin fabrication immediately,' Shimizu said, tapping away at a keyboard.

'Fabrication?' Amy asked, her orgasm-addled brain still struggling to keep up. 'Fabricate what?'

'Why spoil the surprise, pet?' Sander smiled. 'We'll be back when our new toy is finished, so just lie back and get some rest.'

Sander's hand trailed down her naked form as his cum began to drip in tiny rivulets from her abused pussy.

'Come on, ladies. Let's leave our new friend to sleep.' Sander motioned to his assistants, and the three of them slipped out of the room, the two girls whispering to each other in excited tones.

Amy was about to yell out when a nozzle descended from above her and sprayed her with a chemical smelling gas. The last thing she saw was a light above the door changing to display "locked," before the darkness descended and sleep took her again.

*

To be continued...

Author's Note: Well, there you have it, the first chapter. If you liked it, then please leave a comment to let me know. Better yet, if you have any suggestions or requests for trials for poor Amy to go through, then let your freak flag fly and give a comment too. It's a big universe that Amy has found herself adrift in: Anything could happen! This is my first shot at erotic fiction, and I couldn't have picked a more appealing heroine to start with than the lovely Karen Gillan, but I could sure use any pointers you guys have. Thanks!