4 comments/ 18407 views/ 7 favorites Doctor Who: Panic Moon- A New Story By: Kurokami He didn't feel the need to lift his head, even as the doors to the TARDIS opened, and then closed again. He just kept working; after all, in this place, at this time, there were only three people who could have gotten inside, and since two of them had opted to spend the day getting married, there was only one person it could be. 'Hello, River...' He said, a tad flatly as he edged his way around the control column, tapping away randomly at the controls. He still didn't know what some of them did, but he found that the TARDIS had a way of creatively interpreting what he did into something that was at least interesting. Lovely old girl... 'Wrong,' A decidedly Scottish voice sighed. This caused the Doctor to look up, and blink in surprise. Amy leaned herself against a nearby railing, really looking quite lovely in her wedding dress. 'Pond?' The Time Lord cocked an eyebrow. 'I'm hardly an expert at these wedding things, only had a couple myself, but I thought it was customary for at least the bride and groom to remain -- them until they were finished, yes?' 'It's still going on, and it's still close by,' She shrugged. 'You didn't park this thing too well. Anyway, I'm not running away or anything, I just... need a place to hide for a bit, if that makes sense?' It didn't, but nothing would stop the Doctor from talking, 'Well, you picked the right spot. This place has been my place to hide for... ooh, ages. No better place to ignore your troubles than right here.' 'Yes, I know,' Amy drew in closer, having to hike her dress up a little to climb the stairs to the control room. She looked down at herself, all near-luminous white and lace, and felt herself begin to frown; wedding dresses might look nice, but they weren't exactly geared for the functional stuff, like moving around. -- this one could do with some pockets... 'I just...' She stopped, sighed and tried to reorganize her thoughts. What -- she just? What was it she was feeling? It was an odd sensation, and one she wasn't entirely at home with; looking around, she felt as though this might be the last time she was ever in this place, seeing this man. She sighed again. 'I'm feeling a little too earthbound, you know?' 'I -- know,' The Doctor said, giving her a significant look from over the top of the array of flashing lights. 'Why do you think I have a time machine?' 'I noticed,' Amy nodded. There was a moment of silence, slow and awkward for her, merely quiet for him. He looked up at her again, seemingly surprised she was still here. 'Come on now, Pond,' He smiled, the same vaguely chastising smile she had seen him use a hundred times before. It struck her that she might not see that smile again, and her heart skipped a beat. Leadworth was too small... 'I get that you're nervous,' He continued, winking. 'Hell, I was too the first time. But, it's too special a day to spend it cooped up in a blue box with an old man. Go. Have fun. Dance, laugh, cake, whatever you want. Be wedded, Pond! I swear, I won't be in here too much longer, you'll see me around.' But that wasn't exactly true, was it? It was entirely possible that, after today, he would be gone from her life forever. She'd seen the TARDIS' visual records, she knew there had been others in this control room with him before, and that there would likely be others after her, but did it have to be so soon? She hadn't spoken to Rory- her -- by god!- about the possibility of continuing her travels in the TARDIS, how could she? The Doctor had only started -- again a half hour ago, and now she could remember two timelines; one where he'd never come for her, where he'd been nothing but a dream and she had never seen the stars, and one where he had... although granted the latter tended to skip a few beats where the Pandorica was concerned. After all that, after two universes and remembering him back into existence, could he just fly away and leave her to Leadworth and her new marriage? Even at the prospect, she felt something almost akin to claustrophobia, on a universal scale. Before her eyes, her personal world was shrinking back down to just Leadworth and that silly little house that now had just the right number of rooms. And she couldn't even feel -- about that, because she wasn't -- to! Who was she to feel like she was losing -- She'd been given an opportunity to see things no human being would see again for thousands of years, -- she'd now get to go back to her home, and her husband, completely unscathed. Not all of the Doctor's friends had been as lucky as she, yet she still felt awful at the prospect of leaving it all behind. ... -- it did her any lasting damage, too. A familiar little impulse fluttered through her, something the rational part of her mind tagged immediately as entirely too selfish to become a complete thought. Still, it stuck with her; fourteen years of waiting, countless brushes with death, one near-derailed wedding... And he would be gone by morning. No repercussions... 'It's all a bit permanent, don't you think?' Slowly, Amy rounded the control panel, getting closer to her target with each shuffling step. She thanked god she hadn't opted for heels with this white cloth casket she was wearing, 'The rest of my life... One guy.' 'Barring a divorce,' The Doctor said, apparently before he had thought it through, even a tiny bit. He looked up, a kind of muted horror on his face. He winced, 'Um, wow... Didn't mean -- 'Well, neither did I,' Amy arched an eyebrow, maintaining eye contact with the Time Lord as she closed the last few feet between them. She found herself smiling; this close, it was hard to forget the innumerable times she had seen this man divested of his dignity. That kind of thing stuck with a person, especially in the moments before, well... She laughed, a tad nervously, 'No, I'm really more worried about the fact that I'll only get to sleep with Rory from now on. I never got to sow my wild oats or nothin'!' The Doctor exhaled suddenly, back straightening as he stepped stiffly away from the console. He adopted a low, warning tone, 'Amy, not this again...' 'Doctor, you have no idea...' She stopped, shook her head. No point going -- 'It's been fourteen years,' She tried smiling again. 'I think I've waited long enough.' 'Amy, stop it!' The Time Lord snapped, agitation colouring his voice. 'Leaving aside that you are literally in your wedding dress right now, I'm nine hundred years old, I'm from another planet... Let's just leave it at that. It's not going to happen.' 'Yes, I'm aware I'm in my wedding dress,' Amy smiled wryly, laying a hand on the Time Lord's shoulder. 'I think I look pretty good in it. Don't you?' 'Stop it,' The Doctor shook his head, shrugging off Amy's touch and slipping away to the other side of the console. Amy Pond, Amy Pond... Strange, impossible Amy Pond, with the fairytale name and dreams of her Raggedy Doctor. This was all too much. Fourteen -- of waiting just for him, an interest bordering on obsession... And if he was being honest, -- honest with himself, it went both ways. How could it not? A woman who had lived with a crack in time burning through her mind every night for more than a -- Unheard of, and in his lifetime, the Doctor had made it a point to hear a -- Mad, impossible Amelia Pond... The only one of his friends to stay, to stick around even when she shouldn't have. A puzzle he hadn't solved yet. But he couldn't. He couldn't even joke about it with her, for altogether too many reasons. But as she pursued him around the side of the console, he knew he wasn't going to get off- -- as easy as last time. He couldn't exactly go out and tell Rory this time. No way. 'Amelia Pond, stop this right now!' He tried his best to sound authoritative, which was harder than it looked, with an attractive redhead attempting to drape her arms around his neck. 'Oh, come now,' She smiled slyly. 'One little moment of fun before you go. Just one.' Was that it? She thought he was going to leave? Well... he just might, in fact he had been considering it when she had walked in. Being with him had gotten Rory killed, it had gotten -- killed, and resurrected, and very nearly erased from existence completely along with the rest of the universe... He was bad news. The last of the Time Lords attracted trouble, and more danger than he would ever want to put his best friend in. But why did she still idolize him so? Hadn't she travelled in the TARDIS long enough to know better? Well, it was his fault for being so damn charming... Maybe that was it. Nine hundred years had given the Doctor some awfully varied experiences, some of which humanity wouldn't discover for another few centuries at least. And many of -- the ones he had liked the -- had been the things he'd kept locked up inside him for a couple of regenerations now, the dark side he'd apportion out to those that threatened the peace and safety of other races. The rage of the Time Lords. Amy Pond had only really seen the bumbling, garrulous and above all -- Doctor, because that was the side he liked showing her. The side that would make her smile, and laugh, and go on adventures with him. The side that turned the Girl Who Waited into the Doctor's Companion. The side that maybe she deserved to see, after fourteen years of looking out at the night's sky and seeing only his absence. But would she react the same way to the parts of him he -- shown her? If Amy Pond -- knew what sex meant to him, would she stick around? He doubted it, and if he had to scare her off to get her to stop this foolishness before it ruined her marriage... so be it. He wouldn't be there in the morning, anyway. Perhaps it was time to expose the Girl Who Waited to the Oncoming Storm... At least in part. She touched his shoulder again, but this time he reached up, unnaturally fast. Gripped her wrist hard enough to hurt. Spun her around. Scowled. 'Fine,' He growled, stepping forward into her personal space, pushing her back with every step, until she was pinned against the side of the console. Her eyes widened as he bore down on her, 'One moment of fun? Do you -- want to know what's -- to me, Amy Pond?' The fingers of his free hand twisted up in the fabric of her wedding dress, pulling it away from her chest as she gasped. Shock filled her expression as the rounded curves of her breasts were revealed to his sight, then completely exposed, as the dress gave way with a harsh tearing sound. The control room was still and silent as both Amy and the Doctor took a moment to process what he had just done. It didn't even occur to Amy to cover her newfound nudity for several seconds, and when she finally did, it was with a trembling arm across her chest. The Doctor still held her other wrist pinned to the console, as his eyes drilled into hers, burning with an intensity she'd never seen before. Oddly, the dress itself was a tertiary concern; yes, he had -- her wedding dress, -- her wedding day, but that seemed to pale in comparison to the fact that lovely old Doctor had just held her down and torn off her clothes. And now she was pressed against the console, practically on her back, covering herself with the one arm she had available to her, panting out each heavy breath as she stared, wide eyed, back at him. She had a hard time figuring out whether or not to struggle. 'Take that hand away. Put it by your side,' The Doctor commanded. His voice seemed somehow heavier now, as though it had a physical pressure attached to it. Amy wondered if it was a Time Lord thing. She still knew so little about the species; how strong were they, typically? Did she have any chance of getting away? His voice was almost hypnotic in its forcefulness. Her arm slipped down by her side. Did she even -- to get away? He didn't even look at her naked chest. His eyes remained glued to hers, only now he was viewing her at a much higher resolution than he usually would. He examined her; the dilation of her pupils, the heaviness of her breathing, the way it made her chest rise and fall... He could see it all. Even her heart, thudding in her chest, was plain to him. But Time Lords saw what others did not, and mere physicality was not the end of Amy Pond. Her biodata was laid bare to him, the twisting, serpentine length of her personal timeline splayed out to his sight. It rippled, as unstable as a tower in an earthquake, folding back over itself again and again in the most complex, beautiful ways. A snake devouring its own tail, except here it kept going, winding across history, sometimes splitting off into two parallel paths, before merging back together down the line in a brilliant explosion of time energy. Impossibility after impossibility. Amy Pond: Time traveller, living paradox, complex spacetime event. So full of life, even though she was impossible. He felt both his hearts speed up. Chemicals and hormones that her species wouldn't even have names for for centuries flooded his body. 'Well, Pond?' He growled, chancing his first glance down at her breasts, which affected him in an altogether more physical manner. 'We could have a little fun, if you insist. What do you say?' In the silence that followed he settled back a little, releasing his grip on her hand. Now, she was essentially free; he expected her to run. To push past him , perhaps flee the TARDIS like that, perhaps stay long enough for him to at least repair her dress. And then he'd go. It was better for her, and her husband. Better if he left now. Better to scare her off, because what she wanted from him could never happen. He wouldn't allow it. What he didn't expect, was for her to nod. 'Do it,' She said, swallowing hard. 'Show me.' The Doctor blinked, but one of the great things about being a Time Lord was an innate ability to process surprise very quickly. His mind spun, absorbing this new information, fingers twitching as blood flowed hotly through him to the four-time beat of his hearts. Potential actions, fetishes, burned through him as vivid as actual memories, and his eyes narrowed. His free hand replaced itself around her wrist as the other one crept up her dress, hiking the fabric ever higher and exposing more and more of Amy's long, pale legs. He could feel her shrinking back against the console. It was -- Again the sound of tearing filled the booming silence that had surrounded them, as his Gallifreyan strength effortlessly ripped Amy's wedding dress up the middle, leaving her practically naked, the dress only held together by a scant few inches of fabric at the centre. The tattered remains fell about her legs, leaving her bottom half clad only in a silk thong- a gift for Rory, perhaps?- and her garter. All at once, the Doctor had a vivid dream of running his tongue up the inside of those thighs, and catching that garter with his teeth. Time for that later, though... His fingers gripped tighter around her wrist and, as she watched, wide-eyed, he slowly guided her palm off of the console, and down between her legs. He helped her fingers to slide under the hem of her panties, before growling to her, 'No. You need to show -- first.' He took a step back, expectantly. He was familiar enough with what he had seen in her eyes, that dark little flicker, tiny autonomous processes in her hindbrain flicking an ages old switch, to know she wouldn't run now. And she didn't, even as her cheeks flushed and she cast her eyes down and away from him. Even as trembling fingers slid further downward. He had left that part of her covered as some small concession, to both of them, if he'd had to examine the thought properly. This was entirely new ground, and though the sense of discovery was a truly exciting thing, it was also delicate and needed to be preserved. Strung along. In the end, it made its eventual completion so much better. Amy actually gave a little smile as her fingers curled inwards toward their goal, but it was a weak, awkward thing. Her face had gone a rather deep shade of red, and now that this was a thing that was actually happening, the Doctor hardly felt bad at all for wondering whether she went the same colour when she was being fucked. He actually felt -- in the knowledge that he wouldn't have to wonder for long. Time Lords live for a very long time, it was pretty much in the job description, and the Doctor had lived plenty long enough to understand that relationships could be amorphous little things at the best of times; he could count the number of friends that had become his lovers on... well, less fingers than he cared to admit, but it -- happen. It was happening now, assuming he didn't say anything stupid to screw it up. But Amy didn't have the advantage of longevity, which, together with living in tiny, near-abandoned Leadworth for most of her life, added up to very few other young people for her to be around. In fact, it wouldn't have surprised him at all if he was the first -- to make the leap, for her. If he tried hard, he could remember the first time he had been in such a position, all the way back on Gallifrey. It had been more difficult than he cared to think about, exposing himself in front of a close friend for the first time. Amy needed to be treated delicately at this stage of things. And so, with great tact and care, the Doctor reached forward, and tore her underwear from her body, grinning dangerously. And then he stared. Amy squeaked a little as one of her increasingly fewer vestiges of modesty was torn roughly from her, leaving her long fingers exposed, working between her legs. She could feel her cheeks burning, her entire body throbbing with embarrassment, and yet she was wetter than she had been in a long time. How had this happened? It had only been moments ago that she had been in control; she knew from prior experience that the Doctor might usually be confident, but that throwing a little sexiness his way got him all flustered and ridiculous. His reaction had been so pronounced last time, she had thought she could rely on it; now, as his eyes swept her body, she almost felt like shrinking away from him. What had changed? Nine hundred years... Who knew what he was capable of? And -- was she so wet? She gasped, completely ignoring his presence in the moment she touched a sensitive place inside her, before coming back to reality and blinking; here she was, in front of -- half naked with her fingers buried inside herself. -- But it didn't matter; he was watching her, and as her hips started to roll into her fingers with each instroke, she found it harder to hold a question like that in her head. It felt too good; heat rushed through her body, and she could feel her arousal coat her fingers, and tighten her nipples. Was he still watching? Her eyes had closed, allowing her to be swept away by the sensation. Did it even matter to her? Her extreme sensitivity was something only Rory really knew about, but as she felt her toes curling against her shoes, and she leaned back against the console for support, she realized that probably wouldn't be the case for much longer. Was she really going to do it? Bring herself to orgasm in front of the Doctor, right here in the TARDIS? Sure, she'd had that fantasy before, but never like this. How long had it been, anyway? Would it be weird if she came too quickly? What was he even expecting? 'Stop,' His voice wasn't harsh, or even very loud, but the word seemed to wrap itself around her brain. Her fingers froze, even as her body ached, so close to that final push. She watched his eyes alight briefly on the light red fuzz that sat atop her mound, then her fingers, buried up to the second knuckle therein. Was she shaking? Doctor Who: Panic Moon- A New Story His grin left her in no doubt: he knew how close she was. How could he know that? He had stopped her, just a moment, just a -- before she had reached her peak... How had he known? 'Show me your fingers,' The Doctor grunted, eyes hitting hers as, for the first time since she had begun, he lifted his gaze from her body. They were old eyes, she saw it for the first time. Experienced eyes, bound to an owner not used to being disobeyed in this context. What had she gotten herself into? Trembling fingers withdrew, and she held them up for his inspection. Her eyes went wide; they glistened in the warm light of the control room, a bead of her sticky fluid dripping down the palm of her hand. This was really the first time she had done anything like this, in a life that had previously been content to have sex mainly with the lights off. She noticed her legs had squeezed together the moment she had withdrawn her fingers, and that the Doctor's eyes were still burning into hers. Cool, yet alive with desire. This was going to be a day of firsts, she could tell. 'Well, what are you waiting for?' His voice cracked the silence, actually making her jump at the suddenness of it. 'Clean your fingers, Pond.' She blinked. The only cloth she had available was her dress- and a pang of guilt swept through her at that thought... her poor wedding dress- and she damn well wasn't going to use that. She spoke up, voice unsteady, 'Um, how do I d-do that, Doctor?' He rolled his eyes, 'You use your tongue, Pond! Honestly, do I have to teach you humans -- I mean, some things are quite fun to teach you people, and in those cases I'm all for education, but this is elementary stuff.' Her eyes swept her moist fingers, then returned to the Doctor, 'Doctor, I-' 'Do it,' His voice brooked no opposition. 'Or don't you want to have fun anymore, Pond? Am I no longer your object of -- With a tiny, breathless whimper, she brought her fingers to her mouth, tongue poking from between her lips just enough for the tips of both fingers and tongue to meet. The taste wasn't particularly strong or unpleasant, and under the Doctor's ironclad gaze, she found herself sweeping her tongue along the glistening digits, lapping up the evidence of her own arousal, while her best friend watched. On her wedding day. While her husband awaited her return literally a few meters away. -- 'Good,' Her Raggedy Doctor was almost unrecognizable now, as he stepped over to her, taking hold of her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth, 'One last chance, human. Walk away, if you think you're not good enough for my --' She could have, she knew he'd let her if she walked away, even if she -- walk away with her dress ruined like it was. Maybe he even had some miraculous device for fixing ruined clothes around this place, and she had no doubt that somewhere in the TARDIS wardrobe was an exact duplicate of the dress she was... -- wearing now. But her body throbbed, she had been so close... He had been watching her, and she had gotten so close it had -- to move her fingers, the barest edge of the wave had tingled at her body like sea foam on the shore. And he could do it again, and make it last. She could see it in his eyes. She... Oh god, she -- it... 'Show me, Doctor.' His eyes narrowed, and for the first time he touched her more intimately; just one finger, drawing up the inside of her thigh. He let it draw on, so close she could feel the heat of his body, the occasional scrape of his trousers against her bare leg, and that finger... tickling at her skin, higher and higher, almost unbearably good. How? His eyes promised so much, seemed to say, "look what I can do with just one finger, Pond..." Hell, when a stare seems to be calling you by name, you -- it's going to be good... 'Beg me,' His voice scraped against her consciousness,that finger withdrawing, just before it hit the place that mattered. She had allowed it to get -- high, without even noticing? 'I'm not entirely convinced yet.' 'Please,' The word escaped her mouth only seconds later, tumbling from her lips before she had time to even think about it. 'Doctor, please. Please show me... I want to see it. -- Doctor...' Silently, his hands clasped her shoulders, his grasp firm but gentle as he turned her around and, with a single finger between her shoulder blades, bade her to bend over. She shook nervously as she did so, a feeling which only intensified as she felt her ass- still mercifully clad in the remains of her wedding dress- press against his hips. She felt his hardness there, and even the merest grazing touch of it scared her a little; he was an alien, after all. She had no idea what he was packing down there, and by agreeing to this... She got the feeling he wouldn't simply allow her to back out so easily now that she had agreed, --, for him to do this. He leaned over her, over the myriad buttons and levers on the TARDIS' console, and guided the wrist he still had hold of up over her head. Her bare breasts pressed against the cool, strange feeling metal of the console, and she could feel an odd, thrumming beat coming from within the thing, a vibration akin to a heartbeat. It wasn't hers, though she could certainly feel that well enough, as hard as it was, but it was definitely perceptible. She felt her nipples rub against the console altogether pleasurably as he stretched her arm up and pressed her palm against the central column. 'Do not move your hand,' He instructed, doing the same with her other hand. She had never felt more open and exposed, half naked with her arms effectively out of her control. She shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other, and jumped again when she heard a ripping noise. 'Hold still, Pond,' She squeaked as he slapped her lightly on the ass, dangling the long white strip of her dress before her eyes before sidling up against her further, wrapping it tightly around one wrist, before looping it through a handhold at the top of the console, and then around her other wrist. Apparently, Time Lords are rather good with knots- or perhaps it was just the Doctor? What did that say about him?- because Amy soon found herself secured rather tightly to the console, unable to move or stand up, her bottom and what lay below it raised and accessible to her frightening, suddenly powerful Doctor. She could feel a warm trickle of arousal down the inside of her thigh, something that the dull throb of the tightness of her bondage seemed only to enhance. The Doctor knew what he was doing; her circulation wasn't -- cut off, but it was tight enough that she would feel it constantly, no matter... no matter-- he did to her now. It would always be present in her mind. 'You waited for me for fourteen years, Pond...' He was growling in her ear, he was so close to her. He'd never been this close; his hand was resting just above the curve of her butt. The gesture was oddly possessive, the way his fingers dug, just gently, into her skin, 'So tell me truthfully: ever think of me like this? Before I came back, I mean. Was the good ol' Raggedy Doctor responsible for little Amelia Pond's sexual awakening? How many times? How many times were you alone in the dark, only I was there with you?' 'Y-yes...' She whimpered, crying out as his hand pointedly impacted with her behind again. 'Yes, Doctor, I have...' 'Aww,' He tousled her hair, chuckling. 'Well... You've been the Girl Who Waited for fourteen years. I think you've waited about long enough!' To punctuate his words, he drew back his hand, the back of her dress coming away with it. The sound of fabric tearing almost echoed through the control room. She couldn't even gasp anymore; of course this was coming. He seemed to enjoy systematically destroying her wedding dress, as though it were a symbol; as he was stripping her, he was removing pieces of Leadworth and her old life from her too. When she was bare, here in the TARDIS, what would that make her? Would she even want to step out of those doors back into the sleepy little town beyond? Her thighs shuddered as she felt his fingers finally trace down her now bare bottom to their goal, stroking at her warm, sticky lips. She trembled, found herself pressing her hips down on his hand, even as guilt rose horrifically in her chest. She had to speak up. 'Doctor,' She began, biting her lip. His fingers felt so good... 'It's my wedding night tonight...' 'Oh, I know,' He nodded in an exaggerated fashion. 'And yet here you are. Funny how things work out eh, Pond? Oh, but don't worry,' His fingers skirted her lips, making her moan involuntarily. 'I don't intend to spoil anything for Rory. No, not at all...' With that, his hand left her aching pussy in an entirely whine-inducing way. She had been so -- Yet she whimpered as his fingers trailed across her skin, higher and higher, up the curve of her ass, before sliding between her cheeks. She stiffened, voice choking in her throat. 'Doctor, no...' She was still dripping, still shaking below him, but her arms pulled at her bindings, to very little effect besides making her wrists ache. 'I've never, um, done that...' 'There's a first time for everything, Pond,' He chided. 'Isn't that something I've taught you over and over, in our travels? Besides... You're dripping, Pond. You -- it.' The heat of his palm on her bottom was electric, making her bite her lip as he parted her cheeks, exposing her most private area. Just a single finger touched it, and she lurched forward, groaning loudly. Oh god, how could she deny it, he was right there... He could see right through her, she was sure. 'Doctor...' She moaned, looking back over her shoulder at him. He shook his head, more entranced by the sway of her hips, and momentarily arched an eyebrow at her. 'Eyes forward, Pond,' He said simply, and she obeyed. Something in her bent and buckled to whatever he desired. She had never been this way before, -- Even with Rory, she had been the assertive one... But then, Rory wasn't exactly, um... He was no Doctor, that was for sure. But then, maybe that had been why she had fallen for him. The Doctor, her Raggedy Doctor, had breezed into her life and made such an impression on her over the course of a single night... and then he had left. And despite her mind's staunch and stubborn belief that he wasn't simply a midnight dream that had indented itself in her imagination, some part of her must have resented the abandonment, no matter how buried. Along came Rory, and he -- left her, even when she might have deserved it. Along came Rory, so shy around her, so willing to follow her anywhere... so full of love for her. So -- Maybe it was no wonder she had fallen for him, just as it was no wonder that the idolizing side of her had kept the Doctor in her mind, and had made him such a target for her advances on the night before her wedding- just -- she reminded herself- in that moment of weakness, with her barely averted death still swimming through her mind. But, she reminded herself, as she felt the Doctor's weight pressed against her, Rory wasn't here. Granted, she could go on and on about whose fault that actually was, but at the moment the man behind her pushed forward and slid, without any real degree of care, into her, that thought lost any meaning. She exhaled sharply at the pain of it, but his hand was on the back of her neck, keeping her head facing forward, eyes open and staring at the knots anchoring her hands before her. It was all she could do to concentrate on relaxing, and easing the strain this act could cause her. 'How's that, Pond?' The Time Lord grunted, fingers tight on her hips. 'Is it everything you'd hoped for?' 'Y-ye... Ah!' She tried to answer, but the words were torn from her mouth as he made his final push, burying himself inside her. He didn't seem to mind. He was still talking. 'All those little flirty looks, teasing little hints, like I was crazy for -- wanting you...' He growled, as he began to move inside her. 'And yet every night, -- you touched yourself thinking of me. Oh yeah, I --, Pond. I've -- what you think about... You're a properly depraved slut, aren't you?' 'N-not a slut...' She groaned, her voice unstable as she bounced against the console, nipples dragging against the cool surface. She was panting now, properly panting with exertion in a way she hadn't for years. With Rory everything was gentle and loving, and it hadn't prepared her for this. -- was rougher that she ever could have dreamed... This was Time Lord sex. 'Yeah, you are,' The Doctor grunted. 'Because here you are, on your -- with another man inside you. What else would you call that, hmm?' She didn't answer, merely gritting her teeth against his ever more forceful strokes and trying to contain the odd pressures that were building in the pit of her stomach, making her ever wetter... 'Say it,' The Time Lord's voice snapped her out of her reverie. She felt his fingers twist through her hair, pulling her head back. '--' 'What?' Irritation flooded her, and she tried to turn her head to catch his gaze. His fingers only squeezed tighter, keeping her in place. 'No. I'm not into that, Doctor.' 'And here you are on your wedding day, with another man inside you. Keep up that line if you must,' He stopped moving, actually stepped away from her. His shoes clacked on the floor with each step, the sound filling the room in the absence of any other sound but her panting, heated breath. 'Okay, fine then. Leave. Ask me to untie you, and -- Head on out to Leadworth, and your dreadfully -- husband, and I'll be on my way. Just ask, Pond. I'll be happy to oblige.' Amy felt her teeth grind together, anger rising in her, cheeks flushed at the situation she found herself in. What had he -- to her? Her entire body throbbed, aching with want, skin seemingly on fire, gleaming with sweat, and he had been inside her for, what? A minute and a half, at best? The ache was nothing compared to the curiosity; the desire to see what else he could do. Ninety seconds had turned her into a sweating, dripping pool of hormones and lust. Merely a touch on her bare skin, loaded with purposeful, directed sexual energy, had allowed him to tear her -- to shreds and tie her up for the first time in her life. What would he do, if given free reign? Besides which, her body cried out. It wanted something far more primal than her conscious mind would admit. His eyes... 'I...' She sniffled, tears prickling at her eyes; is that what she was? Really? Hard to deny, bent over and begging like this... 'I'm a s-slut...' 'I'm sorry?' He was whispering in her ear. How did he get so close? 'My hearing isn't what it used to be, Pond. Nine hundred years and all that. What did you say?' 'I'm a slut, Doctor!' Her voice spilled out, high and reedy, filling the high, vaulted ceilings with the admission. To her mind, it sunk into the walls of the time machine, engraved there forever; the Doctor had told her that the TARDIS was alive, was it that much of a stretch to believe that it -- 'I -- be...' She whimpered. 'Good girl, Pond,' She could feel him smiling, and she grunted as he stepped back up to, and inside, her. 'Honesty is a trait I favour in my companions, after all.' And then there was silence, broken only by the sound of their breathing, laboured and unsteady, as he worked within her, and she took everything he had to give. His touch provoked a change deep in her, turned her passive... no, accommodating-- Open to him. Almost to the point of madness; past the pain, past even the pleasure that filled her body until it almost burst, she wouldn't- -- move, or back down, or even tell him to stop. She panted and moaned, heard her mouth begging for more even as her vision began to blur and her legs failed, dropping her abdomen hard against the edge of the console. She wanted more, even though he felt like he was going to tear her apart with it. It was with a distinct sense of apprehension that Amy realized something; as intense as this was, she wasn't anywhere near close to orgasm yet. ... How much longer could she -- this, anyway? 'Does my little slut want to cum, eh?' Amy's eyes widened; she could -- him rifling around in her head, plucking out her base desires and examining them under a microscope. -- She whimpered, the sound rising desperately into a terribly out of control moan as his length sliced through a sensitive spot inside her, sending another spasm of nerve-shredding pleasure through her. She couldn't even -- him, for god's sake... 'Well, no problem...' His voice was silk, white and gold, sliding through her like nothing else. Knowing, wise, regal... not trustworthy, but it -- respect, almost bordering on fear. She felt the sound before she heard it. She screamed. She stopped screaming, as her voice petered out into silence. Her mouth was still open. Amy didn't even need to look down; the buzz filled her up better than anything else. He had pressed his sonic screwdriver to her sopping, aching pussy, and it had lit her up like a bonfire. The nerves of her clit twanged and reverberated to its frequency, sensation shrieking through her with the force of running headlong into a concrete block. She couldn't breathe, couldn't see through her tears, couldn't feel anything but the heat in her skin... not even pleasure. The sensation transcended that, dragging her kicking and screaming toward climax without even a warm glow to comfort her. So close... She gagged on the lump in her throat, yelling in incoherent frustration as the sonic device was withdrawn, causing her entire body to shudder as it was released from the grip of sheer sensation. Her tongue still felt useless in her mouth, good only for directing her breathless, uninhibited moans, but she hoped to add a vaguely questioning tone as the Doctor continued to drive in and out of her. 'No, no,' The Doctor hissed, hands now roaming her body, squeezing at her soft and supple flesh, pale in the cool mechanical light of the TARDIS. 'It's not going to be easy for you. You want it, you -- After all... not many humans are honoured with what you're experiencing.' It had been only a few moments, and she had been -- at the time, but... as the pain of the Doctor's forceful thrusts returned to her, she found herself distanced from the climax that had been brewing within her. It slipped from her grasp, the merest edge of it touching her, and the heat of even that immense, unlike anything else she had ever felt. A shudder, deep and heavy, rippled down her spine, a contraction in her mind; what else was she but his? What else had she ever been, waiting fourteen years for him, like her life was nothing but a holding pattern and now he was here... And what else was she? Just a stupid human girl, bowed over and practically cowering before the powerful Time Lord. The sound, the buzz, rang out again and again, to her mind as loud as a hammer ringing out on an anvil, crashing in her ears. Or was that the beat of her heart? It was a cycle that seemed to stretch out for eternity; the screwdriver would lightly touch her groin, and she would surge upward, all fire and breathless, gasping screams. She was like jelly, melting down, shivering and writhing in her bonds, and -- as her orgasm was within her grasp, the source of her bone rattling pleasure would be torn away. And she would yell in mindless frustration. And the Doctor would -- Over and over he did it, manipulating her body with masterful precision, beating down any chance at coherency she had, leaving her so wild and desperate with need that all she could do was press her hips back against the Doctor and moan unintelligibly. He worked within her, hands all over her body, sometimes gliding over her breasts, fingers squeezing at her thighs, wound up in her hair, drinking her in with every sense. It was pure sensation; she could barely even feel her own body anymore. Everything was numb, yet somehow still burning hot. Doctor Who: Panic Moon- A New Story 'Well, Pond?' The Time Lord growled, his voice thrumming, twanging through her nervous system like the breaking of a violin string. 'Have you figured it out? What I want?' She groaned, breath fluttering in her throat as he thrust into her, never giving her even a moment of respite from the competing signals of pleasure and pain. Her lips quivered as she worked them, forcing herself to summon up enough mental energy to form words, 'N-no... Doctor... More.... I can't... I'm almost...' She trailed off into another shuddering moan. 'I want you to -- Pond,' His voice sounded so different, deeper somehow, stronger. Was it just in her mind, or was he really...? 'I want to hear you -- you want it, --' There wasn't even a second of hesitation; she broke immediately, breath shuddering in her throat as she inhaled the necessary air to prostrate herself before him, 'Doctor, I need it... Please, please, please! I need more! I'm so --- Ah!' She broke down, tears falling from her eyes, a symmetrical counterpoint to the moisture dripping down her thighs. But he was giving her what she wanted, what she -- The glowing green tip of his sonic screwdriver touched to her hips... Oh god, what setting was --It tore through her, raced up her spine, lit every nerve in her body on fire. Her muscles had drawn tight as bowstrings, back arching almost painfully as she pressed her hips back desperately against his pummelling thrusts, as if somehow he could make even -- safe for her. She felt as though she was falling apart, she could feel it in her -- Gasping for air, yet never getting enough, vision blurred with tears, face and chest bright red and covered in a sheen of sweat, Amy Pond came. Her orgasm wrapped around her, left her nearly insensate, unable to feel anything else, floating away... Borne aloft on the Time Lord's version of fun. Her pleasure seemed to peak, entwining with the pain creeping up from her behind, each feeling enhancing the other, spinning together through her entire frame, long legs uselessly thrashing below her, occasionally kicking out at the Doctor's instep to little effect. Long after the initial shock of ecstasy had run its course, the muscles of her pussy continued to contract on nothing, in a way that quickly stopped being satisfying and started --; a deep abiding ache that... Oh, fuck... She loved it all... She heard her mouth begging, but she couldn't even tell if she was using -- let alone the content of them; was she begging for more, or begging for it to stop? It occurred to her later that it was probably -- She never knew she could cum like this. Part of her wished she still didn't. She half expected than when it was all over, she would be standing in the centre of a blast crater. Her body gave one final shudder and collapsed completely, limp in the Doctor's grip. His little tied up ragdoll. His to use. And use her he did; just because -- was finished didn't mean he was... It was all she could do to hold on, fingers winding around the scraps of her once-important wedding dress, holding on against the onslaught of the Doctor's lust. She felt delicate and broken down, as though any particularly forceful motion would shatter her like glass, and it was a miracle she was standing up to what the Doctor was doing to her now. In particular, it felt like she had been burned between her legs, with only a dull, throbbing ache to remind her that there had once been an obscene pleasure there. She found herself trembling again as he reached his own climax, his warmth filling her, an echo of the sensations that had rendered her so numb juddering through her like an impact. She fell limp as he finally pulled away from her, red hair falling about her face in a curtain, obscuring everything, leaving her alone with the constant burn of her muscles, the wetness seeping out of her, the throbbing ache of her backside... And beyond it all, in some distant place inside her, a dark thrill, a monstrous satisfaction at the transgression she had committed. Like a line had been crossed in her head that she had never knew existed, not just in personality but in her very -- Pleasure and pain had crashed over her in ways she never knew they could, passing some limit in her body, beyond the point of excess, and coming clean out the other side... Amy got the feeling that something fundamental inside her had shattered at her peak, and she would never get it back. Her legs drooped uselessly below her, thighs spread lewdly; she didn't even care. 'Well, how was it, Pond?' His voice was still so smooth, so steady. Everything about the Doctor was composure and calm, luminous amusement, as though the fact that he had left her wrecked and exhausting was unexpected, 'How did you like Time Lord sex?' Amy found that she couldn't bear to look back at him, not like this; in the heat of the moment, with her senses enflamed and her entire body aching for him, and even later, when her mind had contracted down to a blistering singularity, there had been no time to think. But now, she could see clearly again, and here she was, stripped and panting and wet, in front of her best friend, having crossed a deep, unacknowledged line inside her mind. She spent a few moments just getting enough breath to respond to him, and then several more trying to find the words. She settled on, 'Untie me, Doctor. Please...' 'Oh?' The Time Lord chuckled, running a single finger down the back of her neck and over her back. 'Don't I get a say in that? What if I want to keep you right where you are?' Amy closed her eyes, sighing, 'Doctor, please don't joke about this...' 'Hey, maybe I'm -- joking,' He sighed back. 'I know you've got something important that you want to get back to... But I could fix that. All I'd need to do is call in a certain someone. He sees you like this, I doubt he'd want -- anymore... Then I could keep you.' Her eyes snapped open, and for the first time she pulled against the tattered restraints that even now held her in place, 'D-doctor?' She looked back over her shoulder, saw him smirking. He shook his head, 'Nope.' Amy heard a sound, barely audible above the sounds of the TARDIS; a low tapping, the sound of footsteps shuffling around her, though seemingly distant. As she stared, the walls seemed to flatten out, becoming two dimensional before her eyes. Finally, she felt her heart sink, as memory returned to her, and the Doctor's features shifted, became liquid and changed. Of course. This wasn't real, was it? 'Well, Amy! -- was fun to watch...' The man before her grinned as the TARDIS faded away, running a hand through his dark hair. 'I guess part of it comes down to Dulsie's amazing illusions, but that was all from -- mind... Dirty girl.' Around her, the world had changed, completely shifted yet still, unhappily, familiar. Now unbound, her hands fell limply at her sides, mouth curved in a deep frown as she mentally checked herself, finding the formless skirt and figure-hugging top she had- of course- been wearing had replaced the wedding dress her mind's eye had fabricated for her. Here she was, back in her --, surrounded by these people. Her jailors. Unfortunately, she was no longer surprised by the mastermind's alien accomplice and her odd mental tricks, nor was she terribly shocked that they had dangled her freedom in front of her like the carrot that it was, before hitting her with the stick's harsh reality. Sander's grinning face meant nothing to her anymore, though she found herself missing the TARDIS terribly even as the pressure of the Doctor's hands on her faded away. 'That was something -- created,' Amy eyed her captor sourly, throwing a pointed finger at the calm and indistinct form of the alien sitting cross-legged in the corner of the cell, arms folded, projecting an aura of pure, undiluted calm as she observed the situation with non-existent eyes. A Dullahan, she was supposed to be, and Amy vaguely remembered being told stories of their kind in the dead of night, though by whom she could not recall, and they were certainly different beings anyway, unless these particular aliens made a habit of appearing on Earth as headless horsemen... Either way, the creature her captors called Dulcimer always made her uneasy. Something to do with the way she could reshuffle Amy's memories and play them like cards in a deck whenever she wanted. 'I wouldn't trust --' Amy finished acidly. 'Oh, I would,' Sander chuckled. 'Because everything she creates came from your thoughts and fantasies, Amy. And it makes me think, it really does. Rory, and the Doctor. Leadworth, and the TARDIS... You were always running, weren't you? Flitting from place to place, nobody and nothing was ever enough... Rory gave you his heart and you flew off with another man the night before your wedding, the Doctor gave you all of time and space and you -- had to try and get into his pants. Amy Pond. Not really the Girl Who Waited, hmm? Because that implies that -- would sit still for five bloody seconds the minute the Time Lord left you alone, and we -- know that isn't true.' He had started pacing as he spoke, as he seemed to do when particularly taken with a thought. When he looked at her, he was smiling, and it was the most terribly honest expression Amy had ever seen him wear, 'Amy Pond, always running. And then along came me, the only man you've met who could --even if it is by a leash. And you know what, Pond?' He leaned in close, his face inches from hers. She didn't move, though she wanted to slap him; they all knew where that path led. This close, she could see the glimmer of something unnameable, dark and hot in his mind, and it sent a shiver down her spine. 'I think you -- being pinned down.' He let the thought hang in the air between them for a moment before he pulled away, perhaps satisfied with the way her eyes had widened at the sound. Regardless, he left, taking the alien with him and leaving her finally, blessedly alone. As the door slid shut and locked behind them, sealing her in, Amy felt the tears well up in her eyes, in a way they hadn't since... well, in quite a while. Ultimately, she could not give in to them, because to do so would be to prove Sander right, at least in his twisted little world. And so she sat, alone, in the polished white room. And waited.