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Visions of The Crystal Feast. Day 10
🕑 Added 2021-12-22 21:52:23 +0000 UTCThe tenth of our thirteen Thirteens made by the lovely Becsantus: The Domme.
Finding herself angry and vengeful following her regeneration, it only took the slightest provocation for this Doctor to take out her frustrations on Yaz. Leaning into her darker urges, The Doctor enslaved Yaz and launched into a devastating campaign against the Stenza, bringing their empire to it’s knees with her broken pet human at her heels all the while.
-o-o-o-
“Get off me!” The Doctor snarled, grappling with Yaz as the younger girl tried to pin her to the ground. She brought her legs up, clamping her thighs around the human’s waist and hauled her off balance onto her side. The blonde capitalised on the momentum and rolled on top, but as Yaz thrashed and swore at her, she wound up in the awkward position of only having one of Yaz’s thighs pinned between her legs, the other free to knee her in the side.
“Fuck… you!” Yaz groaned, trying to pull her arms free of The Doctor’s grip. “Ahn!” The moan that burst from the girl’s lips was completely involuntary, breathless and lustful, as opposed to the furious and pained grunts she’d made as she and The Doctor wrestled.
Thanks to her position, whenever she or the doctor moved their bodies in a bid to overpower the other, her pussy was rubbed up against The Doctor’s thigh, sending waves of unwanted pleasure through the furious virgin.
“Not so tough now, are you?” The Doctor crowed, oblivious to the pleasure she was forcing onto her companion. “I’m a grandmaster of Venusian Aikido you stupid child, and you thought you could fight me?”
‘The Doctor’s long lifespan affords all versions of them a multitude of advantages when conflict is aroused. Whilst centuries of knowledge are often the principle weapon of the time-lord, there are just as many variants who prefer to use the physical skills learned over the many millennia to defeat their foes, and even some who delight in inflicting pain on their unfortunate victims…’
-o-o-o-
The swish of a whip sounded in the darkness of the Tardis console room, thick, braided leather cutting through the air before snapping harshly against a bruised brown buttock.
Yasmin Khan’s squeak of pain was muffled by the ballgag nestled between her plump lips, wet with her saliva to the point of dripping. Her wide brown eyes rolled to the side and stared imploringly at her friend The Doctor.
No, friend wasn’t the right word.
The Doctor had contempt for her, and Yaz couldn’t honestly say she ‘liked’ the Doctor much either. Mistress was a more fitting title, or even better: owner.
The Doctor viewed Yaz as a plaything, just another part of her collection, and Yaz… well, Yaz was helplessly smitten. Not with The Doctor, although the frighteningly cruel and lustful woman was stunningly beautiful, but with just how amazing she made Yaz feel.
The abuse, the cruelty, being treated like a pet at best and dirt at worst… it was intoxicating.
The fear The Doctor instilled in her, making it clear how disposable she was, making her watch as she took lives and cracked the Stenza homeworld like an egg without a hint of remorse, it was addictive.
She couldn’t help herself, she needed to be this evil woman’s personal fuckpig.
So Yaz stayed and served her owner however she was bid. Submitting to humiliation and debasement even when the open door of the TARDIS glowed invitingly, offering her salvation, normality, the chance of being loved again.
Swish.
Thwack.
Yaz’s legs shook, soft thighs jiggling as she struggled to remain still to receive her owner’s gift. With her arms locked in a snug brace above her head, her choices were either to balance on the towering heels her owner had slipped her into, or dangle from the chain securing her to the ceiling like a fresh cut of meat. She hoped that if she was good, if she was obedient, the Doctor might use her properly before wandering off to do whatever it was she did beyond the console room, so she kept upright, even as her ass was lashed red.
The Doctor’s latex gloves were freezing cold compared to the burning warmth of Yaz’s tortured skin when at last the whipping stopped. She gasped weakly against her gag, eyes watering as The Doctor palmed her cheeks, squeezing and teasing the thick brown flesh of her butt in her strong hands before patting her gently.
“Have you been doing the exercises I gave you, pig?” She whispered into Yaz’s ear. Yaz nodded, swallowing spit as The Doctor’s hands slid up her hips to her stomach.
The Doctor clearly hadn’t been content with merely physically torturing her, and had begun emotionally tormenting her as well, reminding her of what a disappointment she must be to her parents, to her colleagues, wondering if anyone back home had even noticed she was gone, or if they were relieved they didn’t have to deal with her anymore.
She needled Yaz about her body constantly, never satisfied with any part of her, her legs were too skinny, her butt was too flat, her breasts were pathetically small. Her nose was crooked, her hair was thinning, her eyes looked bloodshot.
Even her hateful nickname ‘pig’ was chosen to be cruel; a jab at her weight as well as her Muslim faith.
And even despite all of that, Yaz wanted more.
The Doctor’s gloved fingers unbuckled the gag and yanked it from her drool-shined lips, throwing it onto the nest of blankets that crowned the stained mattress of Yaz’s bed.
“I asked you a question, pig.” The Doctor said softly, fingers winding around Yaz’s throat.
“Yes mistress, I’ve been doing my exercises mistress.” Yaz panted, “Is… is my ass fatter now? I’ve been doing so many squats… and eating all my food like… a good little sow.”
“I’ll bet you have.” The Doctor snarled, “I bet you’ve been stuffing your face every moment I take my eye off you, how else could you have grown such a gut you greedy swine!”
Yaz saw the slap coming, but made no effort to avoid it, merely moaning as the Doctor’s palm smacked against her cheek.
“No mistress.” She simpered pathetically, pushing her ass out to try and show off the added padding her new exercise and diet had packed onto her rear. “I only eat what you give me, mistress.”
The Doctor’s eyes narrowed. “Are you calling me a liar?”
Yaz shook her head. “No mistress.”
“Because if you were, I’d have to carve some of this meat off you myself and feed it to you, and I know a good, pious girl like you wouldn’t like being force-fed pork!”
“No mistress.” Yaz mewed, shivering with a perverse thrill at the threat.
“Stupid sow.” The Doctor grunted, pushing her away only to grab Yaz by her drooling cunt as she swung helplessly back towards her. The girl whined, her weight suddenly being supported not only by her wrists, but by the three fingers hooked into her hole.
The Doctor looked her up and down, face twisted into a sneer before she reached out with her free hand and took two of the many rings she’d pierced Yaz’s labia with between her fingers. “How do you think this will end, pig?” She asked quietly.
“Mistress?”
“I’ll live for thousands more years, you’ll wear out in a decade, maybe two if you’re lucky.” The Doctor hummed. “How do you think this will end?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course not.” The Doctor sighed, rolling her eyes. “Stupid sow…”
She slid a finger out of Yaz’s cunt, leaving her suspended by the ring and her two fingers alone. Suddenly the gentle tug against Yaz’s petals became a firm pull as more of her weight dangled from the metal looped through her flesh.
“Do you think I should kill you?” The Doctor mused, “See just how much punishment your pathetic human body can take before it falls apart?” She slipped her second finger free, leaving just a single digit supporting Yaz. The pull became even stronger and Yaz choked with pain, if The Doctor let go of her there was no way her body could be held up by just that piercing alone, it would rip free of her flesh like paper!
“Or should I dump you in some godforsaken hole somewhere in the cosmos? Let you fend for yourself?” The alien dominatrix mused. “Perhaps I should sell you into slavery? Then I might actually get something back from all my generosity.”
“I… I know… you’ll do what’s… best… mistress.” Yaz croaked, tears sparkling in her eyes as her petals were pulled. Suddenly the Doctor smiled and released her altogether, letting her swing freely back and come to an awkward halt.
“If you weren’t such an obedient sow I’d get rid of you here and now.” She cooed, “but seeing as you’re just so sweetly submissive, I suppose I’ll keep you around to amuse myself a while longer.”
“Thank you mistress.” Yaz wheezed, “You’re… so… kind to me, mistress.”
“Obviously, if I wasn’t I’d have left you floating in space like the trash you are.” The Doctor smirked. “It was your own stupid fault you were teleported with me.”
“My fault.” Yaz croaked weakly, nodding despite the shame the doctor’s words had roused in her. It wasn’t her fault, was it? It couldn’t have been. The Doctor must have made a mistake, that’s why she, Ryan and Graham had been teleported with her away from earth. And the Doctor had only saved her and not the others because… because…
Yaz swallowed. The Doctor had saved her because she was pretty, because she was submissive, and because she had immediately recognised what a whore Yaz was deep down. Ryan and Graham hadn’t been interesting enough, so they’d died in the vacuum alone whilst she was whisked away to enjoy life as an abuse-sponge for a maniacal tyrant.
She fell to the ground with a grunt as The Doctor unlaced her armbinder, staring meekly up at her owner. The dark-haired sociopath plucked a marker from a shelf and rolled it between her fingers before writing something across a framed picture she’d pulled from the shelf of toys she’d been using on Yaz.
“To the door.” She said simply.
Yaz whined and hauled her aching body off the floor, staggering to the doorway and waiting for her mistress to come.
The Doctor smiled as she passed, showing her the picture she’d brought. It was Yaz, smiling proudly in her uniform, the day she’d graduated from her apprenticeship and become a full officer. “Rape me.” was written above her face.
The Doctor fixed it to the outside of the Tardis door and glanced back at back to Yaz. “Turn around and bend over.”
Yaz obeyed, and soon her wrists and ankles were cuffed to the Tardis’ doorway, her plump brown butt stuck out into the vacuum of space, with a helpful picture of her smiling, innocent self to entice her upcoming abusers.
The Doctor erected a one-way light-shield with a wave of her sonic screwdriver and landed the Tardis.
“Good thing I had your tubes tied, pig.” She purred, stroking a palm over Yaz’s cheek as the girl weakly trembled, anticipating the inevitable thrust of an anonymous cock into her helpless holes. “I don’t plan on moving from this spot until I’ve reorganised my collection, and that might just take days.”
Yaz bit her lip as she felt hands grab her reddened ass, groping her hard enough to hurt.
The Doctor continued, “Any other woman would be bred a thousand times over by the amount of spunk you’re about to guzzle down, but then again, there aren’t any women like you sow. You’re unique in your degeneracy.”
Yaz howled as she was suddenly stuffed, tears welling in her eyes as her asshole was stretched wide around an alien cock. “Please… mistress.” She managed to gasp, staring up at the woman who had corrupted her into nothing more than an abuse-craving slut. “May I worship you… b… before you go away?”
The black-haired woman laughed softly and nodded, taking Yaz by the hair and pressing her blushing, drooling face tight against her ass. Yaz only moaned at the familiar embrace of The Doctor’s cheeks and set to work rimming the dark goddess who had enslaved her.
The degradation was exquisite bliss.
