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what will the signal be for your eyes to see me

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"Y'know," Yaz panted, as she and the Doctor clattered down a stairwell, "when you said let's go to an art gallery -"

"Now is really not the time for that, Yaz," the Doctor said from in front of her. The back of her coat billowed behind her, like a superhero's cape.

"I was thinkin' that it would be while the art gallery was open," Yaz continued.

"Not the time," the Doctor repeated. There was distant shouting.

"And I especially didn't think we'd be stealing from it," Yaz said.

"I might've been a little light on details," the Doctor admitted. She wasn't panting, because of course she wasn't. They were at the bottom of the staircase now, and there was a big door with a window beside it. The woman at the window was looking bored, and had a book in her lap.

"You here for the party?" The woman looked unimpressed.

"Yes," the Doctor said quickly. There was the sound of more running, up at street level. "Yes, we are indeed here for the party. Here's our invitation, see?"

She flashed the psychic paper, and the woman pressed a button.

The door sprang open, and the Doctor dashed inside, grabbing Yaz by the hand and yanking her in. The door clanged shut behind them, and Yaz jumped.

"What were you stealing, anyway?" Yaz looked around, squinting. The place was dimly lit, and the smell of leather and disinfectant hit her in the face like a sledgehammer. There was very loud music playing, and it sounded like someone was... screaming?

"This isn't a speakeasy anymore, is it?" The Doctor frowned, and in the dim light, Yaz could just make out the line between her eyebrows when she frowned. "No, wrong era. It's early-ish twenty first century, so that'd mean this is a -"

"Fetish club," Yaz finished the sentence.

She was staring wide eyed, as a woman walked by. The woman was in a leather corset, and she had a naked man on a leash, which was attached to what looked like a metal cage locked around his cock. He had a high heeled shoe dangling from the collar around his neck.

"Yep," the Doctor said. "We're in luck, these types of places are even more protective of their inhabitants than a speakeasy!"

"Right," said Yaz.

There was a small stage set up at one end of the long room, and a woman was being flogged by another woman. She and the Doctor were standing by a bar, and there was another slightly bored looking man behind it.

"We'll just stay here, mingle a bit, leave with the crowd," the Doctor said. Then she frowned, glancing over at Yaz, then around. "We should probably work a little harder to blend in, though."

"Blend in," Yaz said faintly. She'd never been to a place like this. She barely even knew about this kind of thing, apart from agreeing to watch Fifty Shades of Grey with Sonya and falling asleep on the couch twenty minutes into it, and the time she'd filched a romance novel from her mum's bedside table.

"Shouldn't be too hard," the Doctor said. "They barely saw you." She scrunched her face up, clearly deep in thought. "Although I should probably change."

"D'you have anything to change into? That'd be... suitable for this lot?"

Yaz could feel some small part of her mind going faintly hysterical. She wasn't sure why - she'd seen weirder things while traveling around with the Doctor. Something about the sheer humanity of it all, maybe? It was one thing to see aliens doing alien things, but a lot of the people milling about naked or nearly naked (or wearing the most outlandish costumes) were so very human. They looked like the sorts of folks that Yaz worked with, grocery shopped beside, took buses with.

Buses led to her thinking about Graham, and she flushed, staring down at her feet as the lady on the stage squealed. At least Graham and Ryan were sitting this one out. She didn't want to think about how they might react to all of this.

"I feel like I don't need an 'into', in this case," the Doctor said. "'scuse me, where are the toilets?"

She asked a passing woman who was wearing a latex catsuit. Yaz wondered, in a distant sort of way, how she had managed to get into it. Probably lots of talcum powder.

"Around the corner," said the woman, and she smiled at the Doctor. "First timer?"

"Never been here before, no," said the Doctor. "C'mon, Yaz!" She grabbed Yaz by the hand, and tugged her down a particularly narrow hallway.

"Why do you need me to go to the toilet with you?" Yaz was trying not to sound crabby. She wasn't... out of sorts, per se, but this was all a bit much, especially after running five blocks and then down all those steps.

"I don't need you to go to the toilet with me, but I need you to spot me while I climb up to get a ceiling panel open," the Doctor said, as the two of them walked into the very cramped bathroom. “I’ll hide my stuff there.” She was shrugging out of her coat, then paused, and pulled something out of her pocket. “Here, they didn’t see you, put it in your pocket.”

Yaz held the object in her hand - it was a smooth, cool stone, and it seemed to change color as she moved it in the light of the tiny bathroom.

“Doctor?” Yaz was trying not to blush.

“Mmm?” The Doctor had her thumbs under her braces now, and was shrugging them down.

“Do you need to, uh…” Yaz trailed off.

"Can't forget my sonic," the Doctor said brightly, and she shoved that at Yaz as well.

I'm very lucky that the Doctor insisted on modifying my trousers to have decent pockets, Yaz thought dazedly, as she put that in too.

"You should probably have your shirt off," the Doctor said, looking Yaz over critically. She was kicking her boots off (Yaz didn't want to think about the last time this floor had been cleaned), then pulling off her socks, wriggling out of her trousers. She was wearing a pair of boxer briefs printed with little question marks, and the hem of her t-shirts fluttered over the waistband.

"I'm not going around topless," Yaz said weakly. "Why are you getting naked?"

"Blending in," the Doctor said, but there was a brightness to her voice that seemed... different. If Yaz didn't know better, she might have thought that the Doctor was blushing, but the Doctor didn't blush, did she? "They probably saw me, but they mostly saw clothes, and if I'm practically naked they'll be distracted. And you've already got the leather jacket, so -"

"Wait a minute," Yaz said, interrupting the stream of babble. "So we're going to be trying to -"

"Blend in!" The Doctor interrupted Yaz's interruption. "Exactly!"

"Um," said Yaz. "I don't know... I mean..." She licked her lips. The Doctor's shirts were gone now, joining the pile of clothing draped over the stall door.

The Doctor turned around, and then she was pulling her sports bra up and over her head, and there were her breasts, small and firm. Her nipples were a pale pink, and already getting hard in the cold air of the bathroom.

"I'm sorry, Yaz," she said, and she didn't seem to be bothered by the way that Yaz's eyes kept darting from her chest to her face, then back up to her chest, then over her shoulder. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I thought we could just blend in, drink some bathtub gin."

"It's alright," Yaz said, and she sighed, rubbed her face. "I've just never... done this sort of thing."

"We've run away from armed guards loads of times," the Doctor said, and now she was climbing up onto the toilet and shoving at the ceiling tiles. "I'm gonna hide my stuff up here, we can come get it before we go back to the TARDIS."

"Right," said Yaz. She cleared her throat, rubbing her hands together, her eyes on the Doctor's flexing back muscles. "You don't feel too weird being... y'know, half naked?"

The Doctor shrugged, and there was more flexing. Her coat was wrapped around all of her stuff, with her boots underneath, and then she was putting the ceiling tile back in place. "Not really, no," she said, coming down. "I mean, it's a bit different, but there's planets where it's completely normal to be completely naked all the time." She came back down, and her breasts were jiggling. "Good on you, wearing leather!"

"Didn't exactly get dressed planning to go to a club," Yaz said. "Let alone... this kind of club."

The Doctor patted her on the shoulder, the very picture of nonchalance. "Well, there's your problem," she told Yaz. "Always dress as if you're going to end up unexpected." She opened the door, and the two of them made their way down the dark corridor, into the crowded space.

* * *

Things were going pretty well, for a little while. They found a couch, and they sat and talked. Well, more accurately, the Doctor went on long, rambling tangents. It was almost normal, except for the fact that there were people doing... well, a whole bunch of things.

There was a lady being spanked, and the man with the high heeled collar kept shooting hopeful looks at Yaz, who kept her eyes on the Doctor. The man on the chair next to them was sucking on a woman's toes, as she made desperate, needy noises.

"Doctor," Yaz said, and she was trying not to squirm. The noises the woman was making - and the sight of the Doctor's bare breasts - were beginning to have an impact. Arousal was coiling deep in her belly, pulling tightly. "How long d'you wanna stay here?"

"Just until that lot go away," the Doctor said, and she jerked her chin towards the uniformed security guards who were prowling around. They were trailed by the grumpy looking woman who had buzzed them in, who now looked downright angry.

"There are people doing scenes," Yaz heard her say to a particularly tall security guard.

"The people we're looking for won't be," the security guard said. "We'll be out of your hair just as soon as we find the thieves."

“Doctor,” Yaz said, and she kept her voice low, “get on the ground.”

“Why?” The Doctor frowned, and Yaz could make out the way her eyebrows were knitting together in the dimness.

“Don’t ask why, just do it,” Yaz said, then; “do you trust me?”

The Doctor slid down off of the couch. She got on her knees, staring up into Yaz’s face, and Yaz’s heart skipped a beat. She brought her hand up to the Doctor’s face, pressing her thumb against the Doctor’s lips, and the Doctor’s mouth opened.

“You’re going to be a good girl for me,” Yaz said, and she brought her other hand to rest on top of the Doctor’s head. She stole a glance over at the couple sitting near them, and she tried to copy the set of the woman’s jaw, the way she squared her shoulders. “You’re going to be my good girl, right?”

Yaz was expecting some kind of backtalk, maybe a cheeky joke. This was the Doctor, after all. She definitely wasn’t expecting the Doctor to just nod, her tongue flicking out to trace along the tip of Yaz’s thumb.

“Good girl,” Yaz said, and she withdrew her thumb, pushing two fingers into the wet cavern of the Doctor’s mouth. It was cooler than Yaz had expected - it reminded her of the time she’d kissed her first girlfriend, after they’d both been eating ice cream. The Doctor was shaking, just a bit, and her tongue was velvety against the pads of Yaz’s fingers.

There was the sound of heavy boots coming towards them, and Yaz resisted the urge to look behind her. She tugged on the Doctor’s hair. “Keep your eyes on me,” she told the Doctor. “Eyes on me, I’m the only one here. I’m the only thing you need to pay attention to.”

The thing in her pocket - it was like a rod with a wide flared base, all made of tiger’s eye - seemed to bulge, and the Doctor’s sonic was equally cold and heavy in the other pocket.

They know I have it, they know who we are, they’re going to take us away.

“You’re my good girl,” Yaz said, and she pushed her fingers deeper into the Doctor’s mouth, until the Doctor was almost gagging, then pulled her fingers back, until the very tips were resting on the Doctor’s bottom teeth.

The Doctor dipped her head forward, took Yaz’s fingers deeper into her mouth. She sucked hungrily, and her tongue slid into the space between Yaz’s fingers. She was moaning, and Yaz was biting her own lip, her toes curling in her boots. Her heart was beating desperately between her legs, her clit sending desperate staccato messages throughout. She wanted to kiss the Doctor, she wanted to push the Doctor back and put her hands in those ridiculous boxers, she wanted -

“Excuse me, miss,” said someone, and that pulled Yaz out of her daze.

“They are doing a scene,” said the angry woman, and she shot Yaz an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Can I just ask you a few questions?” The security guard was squinting down at the Doctor.

Yaz withdrew her fingers from the Doctor’s mouth, and pressed the Doctor’s face into her thigh, her hand on the back of the Doctor's head.

“My submissive is currently occupied,” Yaz said, and she sounded a lot more self assured than she thought she would. “Can I help you?”

“We’re, um, we’re looking for someone,” said the man. He was wilting under Yaz’s glare. She’d perfected tha glare on a lot of drunks - it was good to know it worked on sober people too. “A woman in a long coat. She took something from me.”

“No long coats here,” said Yaz.

“Can I talk to your submissive?” The man glanced down at the Doctor.

The Doctor mumbled something, and then she turned around. Her bare breasts were very pale in the dim light, and Yaz wanted to feel the hard point of the Doctor’s nipple against her tongue.

She needed to not think about that.

“My Dominant told you everything,” she said.

“Your Mistress -” the security guard began.

“My Dominant,” the Doctor interrupted, and Yaz glanced down at the Doctor’s face, and saw it smooth back from whatever expression it had been making.

The security guard laughed nervously. “You let your sub talk to people like that?” He was clearly trying to be chummy - he was also clearly out of his depth.

“Are you telling me how I should discipline my submissive?” Yaz moved her hand to the back of the Doctor’s neck, and squeezed. She could feel the Doctor’s double pulse beating under her fingertips, and the coolness of the Doctor’s skin.

“No, I wasn’t -” the man began.

“Because I’ll discipline her when and how I see fit.” Yaz started to draw herself up, channeling her nan.

“Right,” said the security guard, and he cleared his throat. “Sorry. I’ll just, uh… I’ll just be going.”

“You do that,” Yaz said, and she tugged gently on the Doctor’ hair. “Good girl,” she said, louder than she meant, and she saw a few different people grinning to themselves. Yaz flushed, looking down at the Doctor, and the Doctor leaned against her.

“‘S’nice,” the Doctor murmured, as Yaz’s fingers passed through her hair. “That. It feels nice.”

“Yeah,” Yaz agreed. The Doctor's hair was silky, slipping through her fingers. “Have you gotten a haircut or anythin’ since you regenerated?”

“Nope,” the Doctor said, and she nuzzled into Yaz’s hand like a cat. “Should’ve.”

“I dunno,” Yaz said. “I like your hair at this length.” She tugged on it, gently. It was strange - even though the two of them were surrounded by other people, it was as if they were in their own bubble.

The Doctor shivered, and she gave a contented groan. “We should do this again,” she told Yaz.

"What, run from a bunch of armed security guards into a club and then pretend to be doing who knows what so that we can make sure that we don't get arrested?" Yaz kept stroking the Doctor's hair - she wished she had a brush. It'd be nice to braid it, although there might not be much braid. The Doctor's hair was pretty short.

"Right," the Doctor said, and she went a little stiffer. "Pretend. Of course." She turned around to look over her shoulder at Yaz. "D'you want me to get you some food?"

"There's food?" Yaz wasn't sure why she was so surprised. For all that there were people being flogged and tied up, the general atmosphere was reminding Yaz of house parties that she had gone to. Clumps of people talking, admittedly more scantily clad than she was used to, but still.

"Yep," said the Doctor, and she stood up. Of course, standing up, her breasts were level with Yaz's face, and Yaz wanted to lean forward and take the Doctor's nipple in her mouth, wanted to make the Doctor grind on her knee, wanted... a lot of things. "What would you like?"

"Well," said Yaz, and she put on that same imperious tone she'd used on the security guard, "you're my submissive. You should know what I want, shouldn't you?"

The Doctor actually shivered, and Yaz frowned.

"Are you cold? D'you want to borrow my jacket?" She made to shrug out of it.

"No," said the Doctor, and her voice was a little bit choked. "No, I'm fine. I'll, uh, I'll get your food. Dominant," she added, and her tone was teasing, but there was something else under there, something that Yaz couldn't identify.

"You better," Yaz teased, "or I'll have to punish you."

"Right," said the Doctor, and then she was turning off, walking towards the line of people that was presumably the buffet table.

Yaz grinned, watching the Doctor's pale back as it disappeared amongst the other people standing around. This... was not how she'd imagined the evening going. She hadn't been sure what it was that she had been imagining, come to think of it, but it was kind of fun, in a weird way.

She'd have to go wandering through the TARDIS library when she got back, see if there was any more research she could do. Although it really was a good thing Ryan and Graham weren't here. Ryan would probably combust out of embarrassment, and Graham... actually, come to think of it, there were a bunch of older men who looked like Graham around the place. He'd probably find a bunch of fellow codgers, sit around and talk about whatever it was that Graham talked about with other Graham-shaped men.

"I brought you food," the Doctor said, startling Yaz out of her daydreams.

"That was fast," Yaz said, and she grinned up at the Doctor. "What'd you bring me?"

"They've got little meatballs," the Doctor said, and she sat down on the couch next to Yaz, her thigh pressed up against Yaz's. "And cupcakes with edible ball bearings. I love edible ball bearings!"

Yaz snorted, and she leaned against the Doctor, her head on the Doctor's shoulder. It was more physical contact than the two of them normally went in for, but this was all so weird, so why not try some new things?

"Did I do a good job?" The Doctor's tone was almost nervous, and Yaz sat up enough to look her in the face.

It was, admittedly, pretty difficult to keep her attention concentrated on the Doctor's face, when the Doctor's breasts were right there, rising and falling with every breath that the Doctor was taking, but Yaz made a valiant effort.

"You did a great job," Yaz assured the Doctor. "You always do."

The Doctor's face broke into a wide grin.

"Brilliant," she said, and she leaned back into the couch, stretching her bare legs out. "It's weird, wandering around in just my skivvies," she told Yaz, as Yaz speared a little meatball on a toothpick.

"Is it?" Yaz took a bite out of the meatball, and she leaned back as well, getting a bit more comfortable. The security guards were gone, at least - she saw the angry woman shooing them out the door. She hadn't even realized how nervous she had been about all of that, until her shoulders had finally moved down from around her ears.

"Yeah. I was a lot more... touchy about body stuff, the last go ‘round," said the Doctor. “Didn’t like people touching me, didn’t really like touching other people. And I was pretty happy,” she added. “Didn’t bother me. But this time, I seem to just want… more.” She shrugged, and then she shoved another meatball into her mouth. “Might just be the novelty of it,” she added, around the meatball in her mouth, “but body stuff is just a lot more… interesting now.”

“Novelty is pretty interesting,” Yaz agreed, not really paying attention to what she was saying. The Doctor finds body stuff interesting. I wonder what kind of body stuff she likes. Body stuff is complicated, what does it even mean?

“You wanna do anything else?” The Doctor was looking at Yaz sidelong, in a way that Yaz couldn’t entirely parse. “Y’know, to sell the bit.”

“I don’t think we need to convince these folks of anything,” said Yaz.

“Yeah, you’re right,” the Doctor said, although her shoulders were slumping. It made her breasts press together, and Yaz bit her lip, and made a point of not thinking about pressing her face into that warm, close space. “We should be able to leave soon. I think we scared ‘em off.”

“You doin’ okay? Not too cold?” Yaz’s eyes flicked down to the Doctor’s hard little nipples, and she shoved a meatball into her own mouth.

“Yeah, I’m great,” the Doctor said, and she was smiling wide now. “Absolutely excellent! Gonna go have a look around, I think.”

“And leave me here by myself?” Yaz asked, and she put a mock pout on.

“You could come with me,” the Doctor pointed out. “Have a wander ‘round, look at stuff.”

“Stuff,” echoed Yaz. “What kind of stuff?”

“Oh, y’know,” the Doctor said, and she put her hands behind her head, grinning one of her light-up-the-room grins. “Stuff!”

* * *

“Stuff” turned out to be someone being tied up. It was an impressive amount of rope, Yaz had to admit - she’d been tied up before, though usually in much less… alluring circumstances, and with less skill.

“I bet I could be out of that in ten seconds,” the Doctor whispered in Yaz’s ear.

"I dunno," Yaz said. "If your hair was tied to your hands and your ankles tied to your wrists -"

"Okay, maybe fifteen seconds," the Doctor amended.

"You've got a brat on your hands, don't you?" The man standing next to them looked sidelong at Yaz, and he was smirking. "I'm pretty good at brat taming, if you'd like some pointers."

Yaz should have said something along the lines of "No, thank you," maybe moved to stand in a different spot. Maybe even suggest to the Doctor that they go back to the TARDIS, since it wasn't as if the two of them were doing much of anything presently, and the guards were probably gone. Maybe Yaz could have made some other kind of polite conversation.

She probably shouldn't have put her hand on the back of the Doctor's neck and given it a squeeze, while smiling toothily at the man.

"I've got the matter well in hand," she said, sounding much more confident than she felt.

The man grinned back at her. "Fair enough," he said.

The Doctor had gone very stiff, and Yaz was worried she might have overstepped some boundaries. She could feel the Doctor's frantic double pulse against her fingers; her skin was cool to the touch. Then the Doctor was sighing, and leaning into her, head on Yaz's shoulder.

"I might have some trouble if there was one of them," the Doctor murmured into Yaz's ear, as the rigger began to tie a wand vibrator up against the crotch of the man being tied up.

"That would, um... that'd be distracting," said Yaz.

She let go of the Doctor's neck, and wrapped an arm around the Doctor's waist. She was keenly aware of the fact that her hand was incredibly close to the Doctor's breast, and she was trying not to blush harder. She could have reached up and grabbed a handful, felt the Doctor's hard nipple against her palm, maybe pull it between her fingers. The Doctor was resting her head on Yaz's shoulder, and her hair was ticklish against Yaz's cheek.

The vibrator was turned on, and the man convulsed.

"You ever used one of them?" The Doctor's voice was curious, as the man shuddered and twitched in his bonds.

"Um," said Yaz. "Well. Um." She cleared her throat, pulled the Doctor a little closer to her. "Not... not that... kind."

"I've known a few different kinds, but that was originally marketed as a back massager." The Doctor was slipping into her isn't-it-interesting tone of voice, the same way she talked about metamorphic rock, or the history of some space colony. "The original ones were for hysteria, back in the day."

"Hysteria," Yaz agreed. This was a very odd conversation to be having. Especially when she was this aroused. She had the Doctor pressed against her, the sonic in one pocket, the weird thing they'd stolen in the other. They were watching a man wrapped in rope have an orgasm, and the Doctor was almost completely naked and pressed against her.

It was one of the most erotic, and also least erotic experiences of Yaz's life. She was turned on, but it was all too weird. She wanted to be back on the TARDIS in bed, masturbating to the memory. Maybe even in bed with the Doctor. She remembered the feel of the Doctor's mouth around her fingers, cooler than Yaz would have expected. What would it feel like, to slide your fingers into a pussy that was that much cooler than a human one? Does she have a human pussy, or something else?

"Yaz," the Doctor said, and her breath was hot in Yaz's ear.

Yaz jumped, and there was a guilty moment - can she hear my thoughts? As far as she knew, the Doctor wasn't telepathic. Yaz had gone down enough weird paths in her own head while around the Doctor, and the Doctor lacked the filter to not blurt out whatever it was that marched through her head.

"Yeah?" Yaz pressed closer to the Doctor, and she could feel the Doctor's muscles stretched over the Doctor's ribs. There was a surprising amount of muscle under all of those ridiculous, baggy clothes.

"I think we can go now," the Doctor said. "If you want to, I mean." She had an arm around Yaz's waist now, her fingers tucked into the pocket of Yaz's jeans.

"We should," Yaz said. She let her hand drift down, to the Doctor's lower back, right over the curve of the Doctor's ass.

"It's been interesting, though," the Doctor said. "Never been to this sort of party before."

"No?" That, Yaz didn't believe. The Doctor had done so much, and Yaz knew ordinary humans who did this sort of thing. Or at least, she knew it was a thing that ordinary humans did. She couldn't imagine the Doctor missing out on anything normal humans did, unless it was something boring, like going grocery shopping.

Unless the Doctor viewed this as boring.

The noises from the man in rope were very much not boring.

"Nope," the Doctor said. "Friend of mine was always trying to get me to go to them, but he was that sort." The Doctor pulled away, shook her head as if she was trying to clear it, and rounded on Yaz. "Shall we?"

"Sure," said Yaz. She wanted to put her hand on the back of the Doctor's neck, wanted to... she didn't know what she wanted, exactly, but there was a lot of it, churning through her like a tide.

The Doctor's hand slid into Yaz's, and the Doctor laced their fingers together. The man in rope gave another guttural moan, and Yaz tried to ignore the way she was throbbing between the legs.

What would the Doctor be like, tied up like that? Would she just wriggle out of it like she got out of every other form of restraint that Yaz had seen her put in? Or would the Doctor want to be good and stay in her bindings for Yaz?

Be a good girl for me, Doctor, fantasy Yaz said, as the real Yaz followed the Doctor back to the small bathroom.

Yaz leaned against the door frame, licked her lips, and tried not to think about lifting the Doctor up onto the sink and spreading her thighs open. The Doctor's mouth had been cool - what would it be like to kiss her, and feel that coolness against her own mouth? Would the Doctor's breath be hot against her face? It had been warm against Yaz's hand, when the Doctor had been sucking on her fingers, but what about against her face?

"Yaz?" The Doctor was pulling her trousers on now.

"Mm?" Yaz looked into the Doctor's face, although her eyes dipped down towards the Doctor's breasts, which jiggled as she squirmed, doing her buttons up.

"You alright in there?" She tapped Yaz on the forehead with her index finger.

Yaz nodded, and she gave a sheepish grin. "I think all the excitement is finally catching up with me," she said, which was mostly true. She didn't have to bring up what kind of excitement she meant, right?

"We can have a nice, relaxing time once we get back to the TARDIS," the Doctor promised her. "Watch a movie, eat something, be general layabouts.”

"I don't know if you could be a layabout if you tried," Yaz teased, as the Doctor pulled her sports bra on.

"You could tell me to," the Doctor said, and there was a note of casualness that Yaz didn't recognize. The Doctor never sounded casual - even when she was casual, there was always a note of frenetic fascination with whatever her latest interest was. "Since you're my Dominant."

She even managed to say it in such a way that Yaz could hear the capital "D," which was impressive.

We were just doing that to blend in, Yaz wanted to say, or maybe How could I be your Dominant, when you're so amazing and I'm just me?

"I'll have to think about it," was what Yaz said instead. "Since I can't be your Dominant all the time."

The Doctor paused in fastening her braces, and she seemed to be mulling it over. "Yeah, makes sense," she said. "I guess I'll have to have a go at being your Dominant sometimes." She grinned widely, pulling her coat back on.

Yaz gaped. She didn't know why she was quite so... shocked, and yet.

The Doctor grinned at her, a luminous grin, and then she grabbed Yaz by the hand and dashed out the door. "C'mon! Let's go!"

* * *

Walking back to the TARDIS was downright uneventful, especially after their running. The TARDIS was sitting on a corner, and the door opened up for them before the Doctor had gotten her key out.

"Oh, didja miss us?" The Doctor closed the door behind her, and made a beeline for the console. "I think she was worried!"

"We weren't in any real danger, were we?" Yaz followed after the Doctor, leaning against the console and not touching anything.

“Better safe than sorry,” the Doctor said, her tone breezy. She pulled a lever, and the whole TARDIS shook.

"That doesn't sound like you," Yaz teased. She was still buzzing on the high of… something. Maybe?

The adrenaline high was starting to wear off, at least.

“I can do loads of things,” the Doctor said earnestly. “Still in early days.”

“It’s been months,” Yaz pointed out, and there was more shuddering as the TARDIS started up again.

“It’s not that long, in the scheme of things,” said the Doctor. “Especially as old as I am.”

"Well, most things aren't that long, in the scheme of things," Yaz said, and she wasn't sure if she was getting grumpy with the Doctor, or just coming off of her adrenaline high.

"In the scheme of things, everything is just yesterday, and also a million years ago," said the Doctor, and she sounded like some great sage out of a certain class of movie.

Yaz snorted, and she reached into her pocket, pulling out the rod they had stolen from the art gallery. "What is this thing?" She held it up to the light, watched the way the colors seemed to shift.

"It's a sacred relic from the people of the Steppes on the planet Pandena," the Doctor said, and she twiddled a switch at the side of the TARDIS, then leaned back against the console. She seemed to be relaxing, finally - she always got calmer in the TARDIS. "I haven't the foggiest how it ended up in an Earth art gallery, though."

"My mum has a bracelet made of this stuff," Yaz said, and she turned the rod again, watching the light play over it. The shape was a tad... suggestive, but that might have just been the frame of mind she was in. "You're saying it's a sacred object?"

She needed to climb into her bed in the TARDIS and have a wank, needed to shower and let her mind mull over the feel of the Doctor's mouth around her fingers and the way the Doctor's eyes had bored into her own.

"They're cat people," said the Doctor, then she paused. "Well, one type of cat person." She grinned. "I've dealt with a lot of cat people, now that I think about it." She was beginning to pace. "You want... is there anything I can do for you, Yaz?" The Doctor's face was searching Yaz's face, and there was something... hopeful in her tone. "Anything you want? You 'n’ me, we've got the whole TARDIS to ourselves, we can have a go at something fun, if you'd like. We've got water slides, we could go swimming if you want, or -"

"I think I need a chance to relax," Yaz said, cutting through the stream of chatter. "I appreciate the offer, though," she said, when she saw the Doctor's shoulders slump. "We can do a ton of fun stuff later. I just need to rest."

"Right," said the Doctor. "I keep forgetting how delicate you humans are." She gave another grin.

Yaz gave the Doctor a look, and she raised an eyebrow. "Is that a way to talk to your Dominant?" She had meant it as a joke, but the way the Doctor's whole self went rigid made something clench deep and tight, low in Yaz's belly.

"You're right. Sorry, Yaz," the Doctor said. "Maybe I need a rest myself," she added.

"That might be a good idea," Yaz agreed. "You're a little more all over the place than usual." She paused, then took a step closer, and patted the Doctor on the cheek.

The Doctor sighed, and she leaned into the touch. "You're right," she said. "I haven't done that kind of thing in a really long time."

Yaz wasn't sure what the Doctor meant by "that kind of thing" - had the Doctor ever actually done that kind of... BDSM-y thing before? Or was it something else?

"Well," Yaz said, and she pressed her thumb against the Doctor's cheekbone, then let go, rubbing her own eyes, "we should probably go to bed." She paused, realized what she had said. "To sleep," she added, and she cleared her throat. Wow. This was beginning to sound like one of those ridiculous comedies that Sonya liked to watch.

"That sounds like a good plan," the Doctor said. "Sleep well, Yaz." She was turning back to the TARDIS console.

On a whim, Yaz kept her hand up, and she tangled her fingers in the Doctor's hair. She gave it a tug, and the Doctor hissed, head tilting back.

"What was that for?" The Doctor asked.

"Sorry," Yaz said, although her hand was still in the Doctor's hair. It was silky, and the Doctor's scalp was warm against the tips of her fingers. "Although you should really go to sleep."

"Don't be," the Doctor said. "It's nice." She sounded faintly surprised. "Just wondering why you did it." She paused. "Not the telling me to sleep, you lot are always telling me to sleep."

"Oh," said Yaz, and she gave another tug. "Felt like the right thing to do, I suppose." She gave another little tug, then let go. "If I've learned nothing else from tonight, it's that following impulses isn't always a bad idea."

"That makes sense," the Doctor said, and she was grinning widely. “I’m having an impact!”

“I can’t imagine you ever not having an impact,” Yaz said. Then she yawned. "Okay. Sleep is good."

"Sleep is good," The Doctor agreed. “I’ll get to it eventually.”

Yaz handed the Doctor the rod. “Sleep well, Doctor.” She felt like she should have said something else, but… well, what else was there to say?

"Was that an instruction?" The Doctor rubbed her eyes, and she put the rod into her pocket. She was rocking on the balls of her feet, and there was an anxious energy thrumming through her.

"It might be," Yaz said. "If you stay up too much, you get cranky." Impulsively, she patted the Doctor on the cheek again, and then she shoved her hands in her pockets, and hurried off towards her bedroom. She didn't want to think about what else she might do with her hands if she wasn't careful.

Why did she have to be careful? What could go wrong, when the Doctor was obviously so into it?

She'd probably be able to come up with a convincing argument as to why pursuing the Doctor romantically was a horrible idea when she got up. She knew it was, in her gut, but lying in bed alone, humping into her hand and replaying the sensation of the Doctor's eyes boring into her own, the Doctor's lips stretched thin around her fingers, it was hard to think of why, precisely. She rubbed her clit harder, her other hand pressed across her mouth, to muffle any noises.

She kept her eyes closed, and she dipped her fingers down, swirling the tip of her finger in, then moving it up to her clit and grinding her hips forward. She imagined the Doctor's cooler fingers against her, the Doctor's fingers in her. Maybe the Doctor's hand over her mouth, the Doctor on top of her. She imagined being on her knees for the Doctor, flicking from image to image. Her brain settled on pressing that strange stone into the Doctor, watching the Doctor's pink, wet cunt stretch around the intrusion, then take it, watching the Doctor's face. She arched her back, rubbing herself faster, teetering over the very edge, and she could almost hear the Doctor saying "my Dominant" in her head, the Doctor's voice a whisper and a whine. She came against her hand, her hips jerking forward, and the sweet pleasure pulsed through her and left her panting and wrung out on her bed.

"Fuck," Yaz said into the darkness of her bedroom, and she gave another full body shiver.

She was probably in over her head, but she'd been in over her head ever since she'd agreed to join the Doctor, so why stop now?

* * *

Things were normal the next day. Almost alarmingly normal. The Doctor didn't bring up the whole event, the weird rod seemed to have disappeared, and when Graham and Ryan came back on the TARDIS, the Doctor casually mentioned "having a bit of a run in at an art gallery" and pretty much left it at that.

They had a few more adventures (more running), and the Doctor didn't seem to be angling for Yaz to dominate her or... well, for anything. She was just the Doctor, goofy and a little weird, but ultimately lovable.

Yaz's crush got worse, because of course it did, and sometimes she'd catch herself remembering what the Doctor's breasts looked like, or the way they'd stared into each other's eyes. She mostly thought about those things late at night in her bed at home, or in the TARDIS, her hand down her pajamas.

It all felt so... normal. The "flat team structure" which was still sort of the Doctor in charge, the four of them getting into trouble, getting out of trouble, and doing a lot of running. The three humans tried to keep the Doctor from any particularly unpleasant trouble (on at least one occasion, Graham had to flat out grab the Doctor by the back of her coat to keep her from careening off of a river bank), the Doctor did all of her usual Doctor-y things, and things just stayed the way they’d been, normal as ever.

Inasmuch as it could ever be normal, considering they were traveling through time and space in something that looked kind of like a police box from the fifties, which was bigger on the inside and seemed to have a personality of its own.

Yaz was willing to write off the weirdness after the art gallery, until she came to the TARDIS one day, to find the Doctor sitting on the steps of the console room, looking faintly forlorn.

"What's wrong?" Yaz dropped her suitcase down on the floor, and she went to sit next to the Doctor. The dim golden light seemed to be filtering over them like they were sitting under the water of some great ocean.

"Remember how Ryan sprained his ankle and Graham pulled something in his back?" The Doctor rested her chin on her palm, and she looked especially forlorn.

"Yeah, it didn’t look pleasant.” They had all fallen off of something that was like a mix between a camel and an elephant. Yaz had been fine, apart from a bruise on her thigh. Them… not so much.

"They’re both insisting on recovering at home," the Doctor said. "So they're grounded for a bit." She sighed. "I was gonna take you lot to a giant drive-in theater!"

“You ‘n’ me can still go to the drive in,” Yaz pointed out. Her heart was beating a little faster. “We haven’t had a one on one adventure in a while.” Not since the art gallery.

The Doctor nodded, and her expression went thoughtful. “We could do something,” she said, and she was scooting closer, until they were thigh to thigh.

There was the familiar twist at the base of Yaz’s stomach, the way there always was when they pressed together like this. The Doctor was warm - she wasn’t as warm as a human, but she was still warm the way any living thing was, or at least, any living thing that Yaz had experience with.

“We could,” Yaz agreed. She cautiously lifted her arm up, wrapped it around the Doctor’s shoulders. They’d both been a… normal amount of hands on, but then again, what counted as a normal amount of hands on? This seemed to be more, but the Doctor was leaning into Yaz, her cheek pressed into Yaz’s shoulder. She seemed to be relaxing, going all floppy like a ragdoll.

“Would you wanna dominate me?” The Doctor’s tone was casual. Entirely too casual - the Doctor never sounded that casual.

“That’s out of nowhere,” said Yaz, as the Doctor began to nuzzle her face into Yaz’s neck.

“What d’you mean, out of nowhere?” The Doctor sat up, and she was frowning. “We did a whole - “

“Like three months ago,” Yaz said, and a bit of peevishness was sliding into her voice. Not that she was mad per se, but finding out that the Doctor had actually been interested and just hadn’t said anything...

The Doctor’s nose scrunched up. “Has it been that long?”

Yaz rolled her eyes, and she wasn't sure if she was annoyed or amused. Of course. "It has," she told the Doctor.

"Oh," said the Doctor. "Sorry 'bout that." She brightened up. “But I can make it up to you!”

"Can you?" Yaz let go of the Doctor, and she crossed her arms over her chest. She was playing the irritation up a little bit - there was something weirdly satisfying about seeing the slightly panicky look on the Doctor's face. It wasn't real panic - she didn't think it was real panic? - but having the upper hand for once was nice.

"I'll do anything you'd like," the Doctor said, then frowned. "Well, no, not anything, there's obviously some stuff I can't do. Like, physically. I don't think I can make the bottoms of my feet touch the back of my head, or hang upside down for three hours. Or if you wanted to go someplace especially dangerous, that -"

"Take me out," Yaz said impulsively. "Take me out someplace nice."

The Doctor perked up. "I know loads of nice places," she said, and she sprang up, heading towards the TARDIS console. "What kind of nice?"

Yaz blinked, trying to get her bearings. The Doctor going from A to B at such a breakneck pace always made her head spin a little bit. “Someplace we can do something fun, but we don’t have to worry about being chased or solving a crisis or… anything like that. Just you and me having a nice time.”

“Aw, but solving crises and being chased is part of the fun!” The Doctor was pouting, and Yaz wanted to kiss her. More than she normally did, which was, admittedly, a lot most of the time to begin with. “But fine. Fun that doesn’t have those things.”

“Nothing that can kill me, neither,” Yaz said, and she shook her finger at the Doctor, teasing.

The Doctor looked downright sheepish. “I’ll give it a think,” she told Yaz. “Why don’t you get yourself settled in, I’ll figure something out.”

“I trust you’ll make a good choice,” said Yaz, and she picked up her suitcase.

“D’you want me to get that for you?” The Doctor took a step forward, as if to grab Yaz’s suitcase.

“I’ll be okay,” said Yaz. “Do I need to, uh… wear anything in particular, for whatever it is you’re planning?”

“Do you want to go someplace where you need to wear something in particular? Because -”

“Doctor,” Yaz interrupted, before the Doctor could get too carried away. “I want you to choose something, and just keep me in the loop if there’s something specific you need me to wear.”

“Oh,” said the Doctor. “Like… fancy dress or climbing equipment or a tuxedo?”

“Exactly,” said Yaz, and then she was making her way towards her bedroom.

“Bring a sweater and some gloves,” the Doctor called after Yaz.

“Will do,” Yaz called back.

* * *

Yaz came back to the console room in a sweater and a pair of fluffy pink gloves. She was pretty sure that they were Sonya's gloves, originally, but at least they would keep her hands warm.

The Doctor was standing by the door to the TARDIS, and she was wearing her rainbow scarf. She looked downright jittery, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She smiled at Yaz, and she looked more nervous than Yaz had ever seen her before. Even more nervous than in the face of alien guns, ticking time bombs, or unknown alien cuisines.

"We don't have to do this, if you don't want to," Yaz said impulsively. "If you -"'

"I want to do this," said the Doctor, and then she gave Yaz another nervous look. "Unless you don't want to do this?"

"I do, definitely," said Yaz, and she walked right up to the Doctor, taking the Doctor's hand in her own.

The Doctor made a surprised noise, and she ran her fingers along Yaz's palm. "These are new," she said. "They're fluffy!"

"They're Sonya's," Yaz said, and she could feel her face getting hot. "They're not the sort of thing I'd normally wear."

"You should," the Doctor said earnestly. "I like how soft your hands are at the best of times, and this is like... moreso." The Doctor paused, as her words seemed to have caught up with her.

Yaz cupped the Doctor's cheek, and she pressed her thumb against the Doctor's cheekbone. The Doctor nuzzled into her hand, and Yaz stroked along the curve of the Doctor's ear with the tip of her index finger.

"So you like how soft my hands are?" Yaz kept her voice light, almost teasing.

The Doctor nodded. "I've thought about them a lot," she breathed. "How... nice they were, that one time."

"Well," said Yaz, and she licked her lips, brought her hand down and interlaced their fingers, "we should get going, shouldn't we?"

The Doctor blinked, pulling herself out of whatever reverie she'd sunk into. "Yeah," she said, and she licked her lips. "Right." She looked down at their linked hands, then back up at Yaz's face, and she grinned. "You're gonna love it!"

"What is it?" There was a cool breeze blowing towards them, and it smelled like cold, and faintly sweet.

"We're gonna go ice skating!" The two of them stepped out, and the two of them were in what looked like a maintenance corridor.

"Ice skating?" Yaz let go of the Doctor's hand, watching the Doctor close the TARDIS door behind her and lock it.

"Is that not special enough?" The Doctor had that same nervous look on her face again. "We can do something more special if you'd like, I know plenty of other stuff we could do, do you like petting zoos? There's a petting zoo on Venus in the eighty seventh century, they've got -"

Yaz took a step forward, and she covered the Doctor's mouth with her hand. The fluffy pink fuzz of the gloves was probably ticklish against the Doctor's nose. "I love it," she told the Doctor, and she kept her tone firm, the same tone she'd used in that kink club. "Ice skating is loads of fun."

"Good," the Doctor said, and her lips moved against Yaz's palm. "I like fun."

"Fun," Yaz agreed, and she let go of the Doctor's mouth. "It's gonna be great."

"It's a special planet just for ice skating," the Doctor said, and her tone was going bubbly again. "It's actually an asteroid made entirely out of ice, but this one corporation decided that it wanted to open up a giant ice rink, so the whole asteroid is an ice rink!"

"What, all of it?" Yaz looked around, intrigued. They slipped out of the hallway, and seemed to be in a more public space now, and there were people milling around. The walls seemed to all be made of glass, and Yaz could see more people. The sky was dark, but there were lamp posts scattered about outside.

"Yep," said the Doctor. "Technically we're on the ice, it's just that the building is built on top of it." She walked straight up to the counter, and she smiled at the... being behind it. They had green and purple skin, and large, curling tusks, and more arms than seemed to be... useful. "Two sets of skates, please." She rattled off Yaz's shoe size, and Yaz was impressed in spite of herself. How did the Doctor actually know her foot size?

"Are you any good at ice skating?" Yaz took the offered skates, and made her way towards one of the benches scattered about the place, around the lockers. It was, in many ways, like every other ice rink that Yaz had ever been to.

"Haven't tried it yet in this body," said the Doctor. "I was in a few of the others." She dropped down to her knees in front of Yaz, and Yaz was reminded of the kink club once again.

"Um," said Yaz, and she was looking down into the Doctor's face, as the Doctor smiled up through her eyelashes. There was a burst of arousal that throbbed through her, pulsing through her clit and prickling up and down her back.

"I'm putting your skates on," the Doctor said earnestly, and she was smiling wider now. "I want to take good care of my Dominant, after all." She said it quietly enough that nobody else around would have heard it, what with all the background chatter. Yaz's eyes still darted around nervously, before settling back on the Doctor's face.

She liked how the Doctor looked, kneeling like this. An image flashed into her mind, of shoving her trousers down and guiding the Doctor's mouth straight to her cunt, and oh, that was good enough to make her squeeze her thighs together. But now wasn't the time.

"Very good," Yaz said, and she hopefully sounded more self assured than she felt. She put a hand on top of the Doctor's head, and the Doctor leaned into it, sighing contentedly. She sat on the bench, and the Doctor almost reverentially began to unlace her boots.

"I like being good," the Doctor said, and she sounded thoughtful. Her fingers were very self assured, but she kept glancing up at Yaz. Her eyes were very bright, and she kept licking her lips. "Do I get a reward for being good?"

Yaz put a hand on top of the Doctor's head, and the Doctor shivered, and carefully removed Yaz's other boot.

"Depends," Yaz said. "What do you want your reward to be?"

The Doctor licked her lips, and she was quiet for almost a full minute, as she unlaced Yaz's other boot. "Like at the club," she said quietly, and Yaz had to lean closer in order to hear her voice. "I want you to... like at the club."

"Which bit?" Yaz wriggled her toes.

She hadn't worn especially nice socks - these were printed with little raccoons. She hadn't realized she was going to be removing her boots, or she'd have worn... what, classier ones? Then again, they were socks. It wasn't like socks were a thing she put much thought into. Maybe her anxiety was just fixating.

"When you... when you had your fingers in my mouth," the Doctor said, and she was loosening the laces of a skate now, carefully taking Yaz's foot into her hand. "I liked that." Her voice was going quieter.

Yaz patted the top of the Doctor's head, and then moved her hand lower, to pat her cheek. She kept eye contact with the Doctor, and she removed her hand, beginning to pull at the fingers of her glove. She pulled the glove off slowly, and then she cupped the Doctor's cheek again, her thumb pressing against the Doctor's lower lip.

"Oh," the Doctor sighed, and she nuzzled into it, her eyes fluttering shut. She looked downright blissed out, and that was unexpected. "Oh, Yaz, I always forget how warm you humans are, and your skin is so soft..." She opened her mouth, as if to suck on Yaz's thumb, and then she seemed to remember where she was. Her cheeks were turning dark red, and that... was novel.

Yaz hadn't realized that the Doctor had it in her to blush like that in the first place, let alone so luminously.

"Right," the Doctor said, and she cleared her throat, shook her head. "Gonna get these skates on you, and then I'm going to wow you with my skating skills!"

Yaz snorted, removing her hand and putting her glove back on. "Are you, now?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Most definitely," said the Doctor. "I'm sure I'm going to be an amazing skater in this body. I was pretty good in the last one." She paused. "I think," she added. "I was excellent two bodies ago!" Another pause, as her face scrunched up in thought. "Or was it three?"

Yaz giggled. "Can you not keep track of which body did what?"

"I mean," the Doctor said, as she slipped Yaz's foot into the skate, "I can keep track of which one did what, more or less. But there've been so many of them, and I've been doing it for such a long time at this point..." She trailed off, and there was a faintly melancholy cast to her features.

"We'll have a great time," said Yaz, and she impulsively rested her hand on top of the Doctor's head. "Even if you're horrible at it. Sometimes being bad at something is more fun than being good at it."

The Doctor made a surprised noise, and she went momentarily still. She was listing forward, until her forehead rested on Yaz's knees, and it seemed like she was almost shaking, which was unexpected.

"Doctor?" Yaz kept her hand on top of the Doctor's head.

"Mmm?" The Doctor wasn't moving.

"You didn't finish putting on my other skate," Yaz said, and she kept her tone light, teasing. She moved her hand down to the back of the Doctor's head, tugging on the hair there to make the Doctor look up into her face.

The Doctor's eyes were at half mast, and her cheeks were very pink. She looked slightly sleepy, distracted. "I'm sorry," the Doctor murmured, and she didn't move.

Yaz gave another little tug, and the Doctor bit her lip, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "Well?" Yaz hoped her voice sounded more confident than she was feeling. What if I pulled her between my legs, what if I ground my hips forward, what if she ate me out, right here and now in front of everyone? The idea sent a surprise flush of heat through Yaz, and she bit her lip, squirming on the bench. She pressed her thighs together, and her toes curled in the skate, in her boots.

"Right away," the Doctor said, and she sat back on her heels, looking Yaz full in the face. "I think I like this angle," she told Yaz, and her tone had gone earnest.

"Do you, now?" Yaz licked her lips. The Doctor was leaning forward, carefully loosening the laces of Yaz's boot. "I guess I'll just have to put you in it more often."

The Doctor shivered, and her hands stilled on the laces. "Yes, please," she said meekly, then paused. "I mean, obviously, not when we're in a crisis or something like that, or in front of the boys but..." She paused, and then she looked faintly sheepish. "Did I just ruin the moment? I think I might've ruined the moment."

Yaz burst out laughing. She couldn't help herself - the Doctor looked embarrassed, but pleased with herself at the same time. She remembered the Doctor looking up at her, remembered putting her fingers in the Doctor's mouth and the sight of the Doctor, looking up at her. Something deep and low clenched in her belly, and she bit her lip and tried not to squirm as her giggles died down.

"What's so funny?" The Doctor huffed, and she was easing Yaz's foot out of the boot, putting it to the side and helping Yaz's foot into the skate.

"You're very you, Doctor," Yaz said, her tone earnest.

"Well, obviously," said the Doctor. "Who else would I be?"

"I don't know," said Yaz, her tone teasing. "You've said that you've been other people before, haven't you?" She wriggled her toes, as the Doctor expertly laced the skate up. Of course she was good at this. The Doctor had a myriad of unexpected skills.

"I was always me," the Doctor said, and now her tone was serious. "Even if I was a different sort of me, I was still... well, me."

"Right," said Yaz. "Sorry, that must have sounded kind of... stupid."

"Nah," said the Doctor, taking the other skate and adjusting that one, so that Yaz's feet were encased in them. "Wow, you've got tiny feet!"

"I know," Yaz grumbled. "To go with my tiny hands."

"I like your tiny hands," the Doctor said, and she took one of Yaz's hands in her own, holding it between her own. "I think about them a lot," she added, almost as an afterthought.

"D'you, now?" Yaz arched an eyebrow, and she watched as the Doctor began to turn red, from her cheeks out towards her ears. "What do you think about my hands?"

"Well, uh," the Doctor began, and she cleared her throat. "I think... that is..."

"That is...?" Yaz prompted. It was profoundly satisfying, to see the Doctor squirm like this.

"I'm gonna put my skates on," the Doctor said, springing up and letting go of Yaz's hand. She plopped herself on the bench next to Yaz, and then she was making short work of her own boots, pulling them off and pulling the skates back on.

Did I screw that up? Yaz tried to ignore the anxiety in the back of her mind. The Doctor would say if she went too far, right?

"They don't have mechanical zambonis here," said the Doctor, as she laced her skates up quickly. She didn't seem especially annoyed at Yaz, at least. That was a good start.

"No? So how do they clean the ice?" Yaz rested her elbows on her thighs, her chin in her hands.

"They've got this thing like..." The Doctor paused, her face scrunching up as she searched for the words. "It's almost like an ice snail."

"An ice snail," Yaz echoed, and she was working very hard not to start giggling now. The Doctor looked so serious.

"An ice snail," the Doctor affirmed. "They send it over the ice to smooth it out."

"So are we gonna be skating over ice, or like... snail slime?" Yaz paused. "I'm not bothered by snail slime," she added, which felt like it might have been an odd thing to say a year ago, but was practically mundane at this point.

"... Y'know, I didn't think of that," said the Doctor. "But I do know that it's frozen, so we'll be able to skate over it regardless!"

"Fair enough," said Yaz, and she reached a hand out to the Doctor. "I wanna warn you now, I'm not a very good ice skater."

"I'm a brilliant one," the Doctor said. "I'll give you some tips!" She held her hand out to Yaz. Her fingers were very pale against the pink of the gloves, but they slotted perfectly between Yaz's own fingers.

* * *

Yaz squealed when the Doctor pulled her down on the ice.

In fairness, the Doctor probably hadn't meant to do it on purpose - her arms had been windmilling as she tried to stay upright, and then she'd grabbed Yaz's sweater, and Yaz had been yanked down onto the ice. The two of them were in a secluded corner by the wall at least, so they weren't blocking traffic.

"Okay," the Doctor said. "So on reflection, I might not be quite as brilliant as I thought. At ice skating, at least."

"You're brilliant at everything else, then?" Yaz teased. She stood up, carefully, holding on to the wall.

"I'm pretty brilliant, yeah," said the Doctor. She tried to stand up again, and then she slipped again. She grabbed for Yaz's leg, and if Yaz hadn't been holding on, she might have fallen over again.

"Modest, too," Yaz said, and she offered the Doctor a hand up.

"Well, yes," said the Doctor. "Quite, thank you very much." She held on to Yaz's hand tightly, and then she made a surprised noise. "You're so warm!"

"Oh, yes," said Yaz, and she made a surprised noise as she was pushed into the wall of the ice rink, caged in on either side by the Doctor's own body. The Doctor's arms were on either side of Yaz's arms, and she was looking into Yaz's face, her eyes wide.

"No, see, you don't understand," the Doctor said, and her voice was earnest now. "You humans - you run hotter than almost any other creature in the galaxy. I don't know why, but something about your bodies just... generates heat, and it's just..." One of her hands came up to rest on Yaz's cheek, and it was cold to the touch, and faintly wet, no doubt from the ice.

"Aren't your hands getting cold?" Yaz took the Doctor's hand in her, still leaning against the wall, and she rubbed it, then blew on it. Some of it was for the excuse of having the Doctor's own body so close to her own, to be tender like this, but... still.

"A little, yeah," said the Doctor, "but I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

"I can't help it," Yaz said, and it came out more heartfelt than she meant it to. She cleared her throat, looking over and to the side, then back at the Doctor. She was trying not to let her eyes flick to the Doctor's mouth, trying not to... what?

The Doctor had asked Yaz to be dominant - capital D-Dominant - for her. She wasn't sure what that meant, when she got down to it, but she remembered what it had felt like, standing in the club with her thumb in the Doctor's mouth. She wasn't thinking when she pulled her glove off carefully, and she only vaguely caught on to what she was doing when she pressed her thumb against the Doctor's lower lip.


The Doctor sighed, and she kept her eyes on Yaz's as she took Yaz's finger into her mouth, and sucked on it. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she sighed, leaning more heavily on Yaz. It was the same look she'd worn, down on her knees.

I want her back on her knees, thought Yaz, not on the ice, but on a carpet, I want her naked and on her knees and looking up at me with that very same look on her face, I -

Yaz was drawn out of her daze by the sound of screams. They were distant screams, but the sound was familiar enough that the two of them jerked apart, eyes wild. The Doctor wobbled, held her hand on Yaz's shoulder... and then she grinned.

"They’re playing a movie,” said the Doctor, and she pointed to the area next to the ice rink. It looked like a massive outdoor theater, full of big couches and blankets. There was a terrifying looking monster on the screen, and some kind of cartoon… something or other in a white dress singing at it. “Can’t believe we both missed it.”

"You pulled me down pretty much as soon as we got onto the ice," Yaz pointed out.

"True, but I'm usually quicker on the uptake," said the Doctor. "I'm good at noticing things."

"Are you?" Yaz raised an eyebrow, and she looked into the Doctor's eyes, then let her eyes drift down to the Doctor's mouth pointedly.

The Doctor was turning red again, and she clutched at the wall. The two of them were just out of the range of the light right outside of the rink, and it almost felt like being hidden.

"I like to... think I am," the Doctor said slowly. She licked her lips, and Yaz watched the way her tongue moved.

I remember how her tongue felt against my fingers, Yaz thought. What would it feel like against my clit?

Another shiver, and something in Yaz snapped. Enough was enough.

The Doctor made a startled noise when Yaz kissed her on the mouth. The Doctor's lips were dry and a little bit chapped, and her hands had gone to Yaz's shoulders, clutching them.

When Yaz pulled back, the Doctor was shaking, and she stared at Yaz, wide eyed.

"That's new," she said, and her voice had just enough of a squeak to it that Yaz began to get nervous.

"Did I... that is, was..." Yaz cleared her throat, and then it was her turn to make a surprised noise, as the Doctor kissed her back. The Doctor's hands were cool on her face, and when had they reached her face? The Doctor's mouth was just as cool against Yaz's mouth as it had been around her fingers, and then the Doctor was pressed against her, and her nose fit perfectly against Yaz's.

Her nose was cold, from the air, and her breath was hot against Yaz's mouth.

"I feel like I'm in a movie," Yaz said, her voice quiet, and she was so aware of all of the places where they were pressed together, of the thudding of her own heart, the way her voice was resonating through her chest.

"Not that one, I hope," the Doctor said, and then they were both giggling, clutching at each other. It was like being drunk, only it was better than that, it was... it was all so much, and Yaz's hands moved down, to rest on the Doctor's hips. She was still only wearing one glove.

"No, no, I don't think that one," said Yaz, and she sighed as the Doctor kissed her again, and now she was being pushed into the wall, and the Doctor's tongue was in her mouth, the Doctor was holding on to her braid, tugging on it.

I'm supposed to be Dominant, Yaz thought, and she tugged on the back of the Doctor's coat, then moved her hands under it, to hold on tightly to the Doctor's braces, using them to pull the Doctor closer.

And then they both nearly slipped, because they were still on ice skates, on the ice.

"As romantic as this is," Yaz said, and she was trying to sound like she knew what she was doing, "I think we might need to get on solid ground if we - if you - want any more of... that." She cleared her throat. Was she making it more awkward?

"But it is romantic?" The Doctor let go of Yaz, slid forward cautiously on her skates.

Yaz followed after her, and she was managing to keep her ankles straight this time. The two of them made it a few strokes forward before any serious wobbling.

"Extremely romantic," Yaz said reassuringly. "You did excellently."

"Good," said the Doctor, and she looked relieved. "I wasn't sure if romantic was what I should've been aiming for, y'know, and romantic is all complicated and tangled up, especially when it's such an individual thing." She cleared her throat, and then she took another stroke.

"You're doing great," Yaz assured the Doctor, and she took her own stroke. "This is better 'n anything I could've imagined."

"So you've thought about it often, then?" The Doctor looked at Yaz sidelong, and she was grinning.

It was Yaz's turn to flush, but she was grinning. She took the Doctor's hand in her own, and this time, she didn't fall over.

* * *

"So..." Yaz cleared her throat.

It was a few hours later, and the two of them were sitting in the back of the area where everyone had been watching movies.

“I want to be good,” the Doctor said, and she was leaning in close enough that her breath was ticklish against Yaz’s ear. “That’s… when I ask you to be my Dominant. Dominant for me. To me. Or when I want to be your submissive. Submissive for you. Um. I suppose. I want to be good, and I just… I like how simple it is, most of the time.”

“Oi,” said Yaz, and she poked the Doctor in the side, “simple?”

“Well, like…” The Doctor leaned back in her seat, and she raked her hands through her hair. “Like when we were at that party, and you kept telling me to keep looking at your face, right? All I had to do was look at your face and... have your fingers in my mouth. I didn’t have to think about saving the day or defusing a bomb or... other things.” The Doctor’s face went dark for a moment, then brightened up. “I just had to do what you asked me to. Wanted me to.”

"Right," said Yaz. "That does make sense." She rested a nervous hand on the Doctor's knee. "I can... I can definitely work with that." She licked her lips. "What would... I wanna know what else you want from me. All the stuff. For this kind of scenario, I mean."

Yaz tried not to cringe.

"I think I like you telling me," the Doctor said slowly. "To tell you, I mean." She giggled, and it was such a sweet sound that it filled Yaz's whole chest with light. She squeezed the Doctor's knee, and the Doctor's hand covered hers, laced their fingers together. "This body is so new in so many ways, you know? So I'm still getting used to what means what, trying to figure out what it wants, stuff like that."

Yaz nodded.

"Can you... I want you to touch me. Like you want to." The Doctor was talking to a spot over Yaz's left ear. "However you want to. And..." the Doctor's voice went a little quieter now, and Yaz had to lean in closer, to hear properly, "I really want you to fuck me."

Yaz licked her lips, and her heart was beating a little faster in her chest. "You just want me to touch you, however I want?"

"Yeah," the Doctor breathed. "As long as it's not in the middle of a crisis or in front of Ryan and Graham, if it's not too blatant, since -"

Yaz buried her hand in the Doctor's hair, holding on tightly at the roots. She gave it a tug, and the Doctor shivered, went stock still.

"How's that?" Yaz tried to keep her voice even.

"Perfect," said the Doctor, "but I think I want to go back to the TARDIS now."

"Are you sure?" Yaz kept her voice light, teasing. Her heart was beating in her ears, thundering through her chest. "I'm sure we could do some more ice skating if you'd like."

"I mean," said the Doctor, and she was perking up again, "if you want to, I'd be happy to."

"I want you to tell me what you want," said Yaz, because the idea of trying to navigate all of this while also trying to figure out what it was the Doctor really wanted was... fraught.

"I want to go back to the TARDIS," said the Doctor, more firmly than before.

"We can do that," said Yaz, and she let go of the Doctor's hair to stand up. She expected the Doctor to stand up as well, but when she looked down, she found the Doctor still sitting, her expression faintly dazed.

"I like that," said the Doctor. "This."

"Hm?" Yaz looked down, confused.

"You being taller than me," said the Doctor. "Significantly taller, I mean." She leaned forward cautiously, her face in Yaz's belly, and she sighed as Yaz rested a hand on the top of her head, fingers sifting through her hair. "I like that a lot."

"I guess... I guess I'll just have to keep you on your knees, then," said Yaz, and the words sounded so pornographic coming out of her mouth, but the Doctor shivered like she'd had an ice cube dropped down her back.

"Not all the time," the Doctor said, after a beat. "I need to do things like make tea and save the universe. Can't very well do that from my knees."

Yaz snickered, and she rested a hand on top of the Doctor's head. "I think, if anyone could do it, it'd be you."

"I am pretty good," the Doctor said, as if she was admitting some great secret.

Yaz snorted, and she tugged on the Doctor's hair, just hard enough for it to be felt.

The Doctor's head tilted back, and her eyes slid shut. "Yaz," she said, and her voice was low enough that Yaz had to strain to hear it. "Yaz, could you do that again? Only maybe not here. Like, in the TARDIS. Maybe on a bed."

"On a bed," Yaz echoed. She licked her lips - her mouth was suddenly dry. "We could certainly do that."

"I've got... I've got other things, too," the Doctor said in a rush, and she was still staring up at Yaz with wide eyes. "For this sort of thing. Haven't used a lot of 'em in a while, what with one thing and another, but... I do have them. And you can try them. Use them. With me. On me. To me." She swallowed. "Am I talking too much?"

“I was kinda curious where you were going with that, won’t lie,” Yaz said lightly. “Stand up,” she said, and she tried to channel one of the slightly terrifying women she’d seen at that party.

The Doctor stood up. She was biting her lip, her eyes down. Yaz, following some unknown instinct, put her hand under the Doctor's chin, and the Doctor looked up into her eyes. The Doctor's eyes were dark, and she looked nervous.

Yaz kissed the Doctor again, right on the mouth, her hands going to the Doctor's face. It really was a good thing the two of them were in this dark little alcove, or this would be more PDA than Yaz was comfortable with. She sighed into the kiss, letting her hands wander from the Doctor's face, back to her neck, to her sides, to her hips. The Doctor's mouth was cool, as if she'd just had a drink of water, and the sensation was an interesting contrast to the Doctor's hot breath against her face. She pulled the Doctor closer to her, and she let her hands slide inside of the Doctor's coat, skim over the Doctor's braces, then slide inside, so that her fingers were bunching up the fabric of the Doctor's t-shirts.

The Doctor pulled back, and she was panting, trembling against Yaz. "I wanted you to kiss me, that time," she said, and her lips were moving against Yaz's own. "When we were at that club. I wanted you to kiss me so badly."

"Why didn't you say anything, then?" Yaz rubbed her nose against the Doctor's, and let her hand slide back, still under the Doctor's coat.

"We had so many other things going on at that point," the Doctor said, "and... I was nervous."

"I'm surprised you were nervous," Yaz said. She gave in to temptation, and she grabbed the Doctor's arse, giving it a squeeze.

The Doctor made a surprised noise, and she arched into it. "I'm not all confidence, you know," she said. "I sometimes get nervous."

"It's an interesting look on you," said Yaz. "But we should probably get back to the TARDIS, before we get arrested for public indecency."

Reluctantly, she disentangled herself.

"We've got the psychic paper," the Doctor said, and her voice was breathless. "I'm sure we could find a way to make it so that they think that we're doing it officially." She was still blushing, as she arranged her shirt and smoothed her clothes out. Her lips were a little pinker from all the kissing, and Yaz wanted to kiss her all the more.

"What could we officially be doing that would result in me feeling you up in public?" Yaz followed after the Doctor.

There was another weird movie playing on the huge screen, although none of the actors on it seemed to be human. If Yaz hadn't known better, she might have thought she was watching a scene from The Big Lebowski, except she didn't think there were that many tentacles in the original. The person in the bathrobe at least had a pretty good Jeff Bridges beard.

"I'm sure I could think of something," the Doctor said cheerfully, making her way towards the skate check. "Maybe performance art? This is a very artsy planet, y'know."

"Right," said Yaz. She followed after the Doctor, and she tried not to let her nerves get the better of her. This was the Doctor. The Doctor didn't have any expectations. Or at least, expectations that Yaz would be able to understand.

She wasn't sure why she found that so soothing, and yet she did.

* * *

The Doctor returned the skates to the check, and then they were making their way back down the maintenance corridor. At some point, the Doctor's hand had pressed into Yaz's, and their fingers slid together, the thumb passing over the back of Yaz's hand.

"I had a lovely time," Yaz said, when they were both standing in front of the TARDIS. "Thank you."

"So I did a good job, then?" The Doctor's expression was so yearning that it made Yaz's chest ache.

Yaz pushed the Doctor into the TARDIS, carefully, and she pressed her mouth against the Doctor's. She let her tongue swipe across the Doctor's lips, and then the Doctor's cool tongue was stroking against her own, the Doctor's cold nose against her cheek. She let her hands slide through the Doctor's hair, and then down the Doctor's arms. She let her hands slide into the sleeves of the Doctor's coat, and she laced their fingers together as they kissed and kissed, until Yaz pulled back, breathless and trembling.

"You did an excellent job," Yaz said. She could feel her hands trembling, her heart racing in her chest. "Absolutely fantastic."

"Can we... I don't want to push you," the Doctor said, "but there are... there are so many things I want. Or that I think I want, since some of them are so new that I don't know if I want them or if I just -"

"I'll try almost anything once," Yaz interrupted. She put her hands on either side of the Doctor's head, caging the Doctor in, against the wood of the TARDIS, and the Doctor stared into her face, wide eyed. "So what would you like?"

"Everything," the Doctor breathed.

Yaz licked her lips. “That’s a bit broad,” she said, to try to hide her own nerves. “Could y’be a little more… specific?”

The Doctor blinked, and seemed to come to her senses. "Well," she said, "to start..."

* * *

The Doctor's bedroom was not exactly what Yaz was expecting. Truth be told, she hadn't been sure what she was expecting. When the lights were flicked on, she blinked at how utterly normal it all looked.

"So this is one of my rooms," the Doctor said. She kicked her boots off, and she was shrugging out of her coat, carelessly draping it over the back of the nearby squashy armchair. "I have a few, but this is the room I've got that's dedicated to sleeping and... sleep adjacent things." She went to sit on her bed, which was a huge thing, with unmade blue sheets printed with what looked like little rocket ships and a navy duvet.

"Sleep adjacent things," Yaz echoed, one eyebrow up.

She paused to bend down and undo her own boots, setting them by the door. She shrugged out of her sweater as well, and she looked expectantly over at the Doctor. She was faintly surprised at how not nervous she was. Or maybe she was nervous, but the nervousness seemed to be all the way on the other side of her, and it would all come catch up with her soon.

"Y'know, sometimes you wanna wank or just sort of lie in bed and feel sorry for yourself," the Doctor said. She was jiggling her leg now, and rubbing the tops of her thighs.

"D'you wank often, then?" Yaz made her way towards the Doctor, until she was standing directly in front of her, their knees touching.

"Y'know, sometimes," said the Doctor. She was blushing, and the pinkness went all the way up to her hairline. She sighed when Yaz's hand came up to rest on her cheek, nuzzling into it. "When the mood strikes."

"What makes the mood strike, then?" Yaz moved her hands to the top of the Doctor's head, fingers tangling in the Doctor's hair. She used the leverage to make the Doctor look up into her face, and was gratified at the way the Doctor's whole face was turning pinker.

"Oh, well," the Doctor mumbled, and her eyes were avoiding Yaz's, then looking up to meet them. "Sometimes I'll look at things, or I'll see things, and it'll make me want to... have an orgasm, and then I come here." She paused. "Sometimes I have naps, too. Usually after the wanking, although not always."

Yaz snorted, and she tugged on the Doctor's hair. She was a little bit at a loss - what was she supposed to do? It had been so simple at the club - they had needed to not be spotted, and she had done what she needed to be seen as inconspicuous.

"D'you... d'you want me to tell you what I think about, when I... when I come here?" The Doctor's voice had a nervous little hitch to it, and her eyes were darting around, then settling back on Yaz's face. She was blushing up to her ears now.

"I do," said Yaz. "Tell me exactly what you're thinking about. What makes you want to touch yourself." She licked her lips, as the image sprang up into her mind. The Doctor, flushed, a hand down the front of her trousers, rolling her hips forward, head thrown back.

"I think about you," the Doctor said, and her voice was very steady, although she was clutching her own knees, her knuckles turning white. "I think about... I think about when we were at that club together, when you had your fingers in my mouth. And you made me look into your face."

"Keep looking into my face," Yaz said, because that was making her own knees weak, and at least some of it was for her own benefit, right?

The Doctor stared into Yaz's face, her hazel eyes wide. She licked her lips, and Yaz unthinkingly pressed a finger to the Doctor's lower lip, pressing down.

The Doctor sighed, her little pink tongue flicking out to taste the very tip of Yaz's thumb.

"I liked when you said I was a good girl," the Doctor said, her voice quiet. "I liked that a lot."

"D'you want to be a good girl for me, Doctor?" Yaz kept her voice low, enough that she could feel it vibrate in her chest. Her heart was beating so fast in her chest, in her ears, in her clit.

The Doctor nodded, licked her lips again.

Yaz slid her thumb into the Doctor's mouth, pressed down on the Doctor's tongue. She bit her own lip, as the Doctor began to suck on it.

"You're being a good girl for me," she told the Doctor. "My good girl."

"I'm your good girl," the Doctor repeated, her eyes bright and her tone eager.

"What does my good girl want?" Yaz asked, and pushed a piece of the Doctor's hair behind one ear with her free hand.

"I want to be good," the Doctor said, and it was an actual moan, as she squirmed in her seat. She paused, then added, "although that seems a bit circuitous, that."

Yaz burst out laughing, and she took her thumb out of the Doctor's mouth, leaning down to kiss her on the mouth. It was a soft, wet kiss, and she took her time to explore all of the different textures, marveling at the contrasting temperatures between her own mouth and the Doctor's. She pulled back just enough to speak, and she rubbed their noses together. "Thank you," she told the Doctor.

"What am I being thanked for?" The Doctor's hands were on Yaz's hips now, squeezing them.

"For... being you," Yaz said.

"Well, yeah. I can't really be anyone else, can I?" She paused. "I mean, I could try, but I don't think I'd be that good at it."

"I wouldn't want you to be anyone else," Yaz assured her. “I wouldn’t want to try being dominant with anyone else.”

"You're not just trying," the Doctor said, and her voice was rough. "You're succeeding. You're... very much succeeding."

"That's good to know," said Yaz, and then she leaned forward, her hands on the Doctor's shoulders.

She kissed the Doctor, tilting the Doctor's head back, and she let her tongue slide inside of the Doctor's mouth, tracing the shape of the Doctor's teeth, the insides of the Doctor's cheeks. She nibbled on the Doctor's lips, and the Doctor whimpered and clutched at her hips.

The Doctor moaned harder when Yaz pulled on her hair, abandoning any pretense of kissing and just moaning into Yaz's mouth. Her head tilted back, baring her neck, and really, how could Yaz resist?

Yaz straddled the Doctor's lap, her fingers tangled in the Doctor's hair, and she kissed down the line of the Doctor's jaw, under one ear. She took the Doctor's earlobe into her mouth, and sucked on it, her tongue tracing along the tip. The Doctor went rigid against her, her fingers dug into Yaz's shoulders, hard enough to bruise.

"Do that again, please," the Doctor said, her voice rough.

"Mmm?" Yaz pressed a very delicate kiss to the shell of the Doctor's ear, then sucked on the top of it.

The Doctor made an embarrassing noise, and her hips rolled up, her head lolling back even further. She was beginning to tilt back into the bed, and Yaz snickered.

"That's new," the Doctor mumbled into Yaz's neck. "Didn't used to be like that."

"Is it a good new?" Yaz asked. Her fingers were moving down to feel the Doctor's breasts, the way she'd been daydreaming about since she'd seen them in the club. She squeezed them gently, then moved her hands to pinch the Doctor's nipples.

"Oh - that's new, too," the Doctor said, and her voice cracked when Yaz twisted her nipples. "Ah!"

"Didn't answer my question," Yaz pointed out, as she kept twisting. She liked the way the Doctor's eyes squeezed up, her mouth falling open and her chest rising and falling. The Doctor was turning redder, and she was slippery with sweat.

"What was the question?" The Doctor blinked at Yaz, her expression dopey. "Y'know, I think that y'might've found a way to quiet my head down." Her speech was getting slightly slurred, and she was clutching at Yaz's shoulders.

"Is it a good new?" Yaz repeated, and she gave the Doctor's breasts a full on grope, squeezing them.

"Definitely," the Doctor said. "Definitely good. I don't know if it's... better, but... oh, fuck!" Her whole body contorted, as Yaz flicked her nipple again.

Yaz bit her lip - hearing the Doctor swear was novel. Novel and arousing. Her clit throbbed desperately, and she ground her hips forward. She flicked the Doctor's nipple again, and the Doctor gasped, and her hips jerked forward.

"Fuck," the Doctor said again, and her voice cracked. "Yaz, please... I want..." She pressed her face into Yaz's shoulder, and she was shaking.

Yaz let go of the Doctor's nipples, moving to run her hands along the Doctor's arms. The fabric of the Doctor's shirtsleeves was soft against her palms, and the Doctor seemed to shiver under the touch. "What d'you want?" Was she even doing the whole Dominant thing right, if she kept asking the Doctor questions?

"I want... I want to be fucked," the Doctor said, and she was speaking directly into the sensitive skin of Yaz's neck. It was ticklish. "I want you to fuck me. But not just... not just in one place."

"You wanna be fucked in a different room?" Yaz asked, and then her brain caught up with her mouth, and she groaned, pressing her forehead into the Doctor's temple. "Ignore that I said that," she mumbled, her face hot.

The Doctor began to giggle, and then to laugh. She tilted her head back, cackling up at the ceiling, and her face opened up the same way it had when Yaz had twisted her nipples.

I'm not gonna be able to watch her laugh without remembering this, thought Yaz, and it washed over her like a wave. The enormity of... whatever this was seemed to be hitting her, there and then, and she held on tightly to the Doctor's shoulders, then moved down, to grip the Doctor's hands.

"I meant I wanted you to fuck my arse," the Doctor said, and she was still turning pink. "And... y'know, my cunt. At the same time. If you'd be... up for that." She cleared her throat. "Probably should've been clearer. Usually one for a more blunt approach, me."

"I've never done that before," Yaz said, licking her lips. "I'd be willing to try it, though. If you've got... y'know, all the... stuff. That's necessary."

"I've got loads of stuff," the Doctor said, and now she was all enthusiasm.

"Of course you do," Yaz said, because... well, of course she did. "So... you want to be fucked in the arse and the cunt, at the same time?" It felt vaguely pornorgraphic to ask like that, but she liked the way the Doctor squirmed, biting her lower lip.

"Yeah," the Doctor said. "You can choose, uh... whatever. I've got a trunk."

"A trunk," Yaz echoed. The idea of having a whole trunk full of sex toys was faintly terrifying. How many variations on the theme of sex toy was there?

"Yep," the Doctor said cheerfully, and she indicated the dark green trunk that was up against the wall. "Collected a whole bunch of stuff over the years." She paused. "Kept the lube in the bedside drawer, though."

"Right," Yaz said. She was not going to let the Doctor see just how overwhelmed she felt. "I want you to... I want you to get naked," she told the Doctor, and she licked her lips, because that at least felt vaguely familiar. "Get naked, and kneel on the floor for me."

"Right," the Doctor said, and her voice was thick. "Right away."

Yaz turned around, going to rummage through the trunk and find... what? What was it, exactly, that the Doctor wanted from her? To be fucked. Yaz hadn't ever used a strap on before, or... well, done any kind of anal sex, but she knew the basic mechanics. She'd done some research, in a fit of horny curiosity.

Her gaze fell on a familiar shape on top of the trunk, and she frowned.

"Doctor?" Yaz turned around, and she held the Tiger's eye rod in her hand, the same rod she'd shoved in her pocket when the two of them had been loitering around the kink club, all that time ago. "Wasn't this a sacred relic?"

The Doctor was in the middle of pulling her trousers off, and she paused, and then she laughed. She looked faintly sheepish.

"It turns out, not so much," she said, and she cleared her throat. "Took it back to 'em, they said they already had their relic. They even showed it to me. Turns out that it's the wrong shape." She made a vague hand motion, indicating the flared base. "That's not supposed to be there. It's supposed to be a straight rod. And it's also supposed to be purple."

"So we broke into an art gallery, dodged guards, and hung out in a skeezy fetish club for no reason?" She put some annoyance in her voice - more annoyance than she was actually feeling, truth be told. An idea was beginning to slide into her mind, her stomach beginning to clench up in new, exciting ways.

"... Yep, that's about the shape of it," the Doctor said. She caught Yaz's expression, and she shivered again. "Am I... am I in trouble?"

Yaz looked at the thing in her hand, glanced over her shoulder at the end table which apparently had the bottle of lube in the drawer. Then she looked the Doctor in the eye, and raised an eyebrow, trying to project sexy confidence. "D'you want to be?"


* * *

"Oh," the Doctor said, and her hips rolled forward, as Yaz's fingers sank a little deeper into her ass, up to the second knuckle. "Oh, Yaz, Yaz..." Her eyes were squeezed shut, and her mouth was wide open as she panted, her chest heaving.


Yaz twisted her finger, curling it forward, and slid her fingers in deeper. Her thumb was pressed against the entrance to the Doctor's cunt, and it was slippery with arousal, pruning her thumb up. The Doctor's ass was hot and clenching inside, almost velvety as it shuddered around her. Everything smelled like musk and salt, and her eyes kept darting between her own fingers vanishing inside of the Doctor, and the hot, red wetness of the Doctor's cunt. It was covered by dark blond hair, pasted down with sticky arousal, and the Doctor whimpered as Yaz rotated her fingers and her thumb at the same time. The lube was sticky and slick, dripping down the back of Yaz's hand. The Doctor was cooler inside - at least, cooler than Yaz would assume. She’d fingered her own cunt before, and the temperature difference had felt scalding.

"It's... oh, it feels different, this go 'round," the Doctor said, and her voice was rough. Her heels dug into Yaz's sides, her toes curling against Yaz's ribs. "It feels... emptier. I feel like... oh, Yaz!"

"Are you going to be a good girl for me, Doctor?" Yaz was thrusting her fingers carefully now, watching the way the Doctor's whole cunt seemed to twitch each time she shifted her fingers.

"Yes," the Doctor said. "Yes, yes, yes, I'll be good, I'll be good, I'll be so good, you'll never know anyone to be as good as I am!" She wriggled, and Yaz withdrew her fingers.
The rod was thick enough at the end that she wasn't worried about it getting stuck. Although would the Doctor actually be able to get anything stuck inside of her? Maybe with her special alien anatomy, she was safe from the kinds of horror stories her EMT mates had told her about. She pressed it forward, slowly, and it was smooth enough (and lubed up enough) that it slid in, easy as a dream.

The Doctor made a surprised noise, and Yaz could see her arse flexing as she squeezed around it. The base was settled right between her cheeks, and the lines of it flexed in the light.

"Oh," the Doctor said, her voice thick. "I think... I think I like that." She licked her lips, and she rolled her hips up forward. "I'm not used to that, without my cock," she added, and her tone was thoughtful.

"D'you miss it?" Yaz ran her fingers along the Doctor's hips. "Your cock, I mean."

The Doctor shrugged, as her hands moved along her own body, skating over the flat plane of her belly, to squeeze her breasts.

"I don't know how to answer that," she said, and it was odd to be having a conversation like this while Yaz still had lube drying on her fingers. "Every body is different, so I can't really say that this one or that one is better or..." Another shrug, and then the Doctor squirmed, biting her lip. "This one is new," she added, and there was a breathless quality to her voice. "I like new."

"New is good," Yaz agreed, and then she let her eyes rake over the Doctor's naked form, and gathered herself up mentally. "I... want you to tell me what you want," she said, and she covered the Doctor's breasts with her own hands, and gave them a squeeze.

"I want you to do what you want to me," the Doctor said, and Yaz snorted.

"That's a non-answer," she told the Doctor, and she pinched the Doctor's nipples, squeezing and twisting them.

The Doctor gasped, and her whole face went ugly and open.

Yaz groaned, and she kissed the Doctor's panting mouth, slipping her tongue inside. She buried her clean hand in the Doctor's hair, and she pressed her knee against the Doctor's cunt. The Doctor's arousal seemed to soak into her jeans almost instantly, and Yaz groaned into the kiss, and held on tighter.

"I want you to fuck me," the Doctor whispered against Yaz's lips. "I want you to fuck me with the blue strap on. I want you to... I want you to be the first one to fuck me, Yaz, please."

The Doctor was trembling, Yaz realized. The Doctor was shaking like a leaf, and she was clutching at Yaz's shoulders. She sighed when she was kissed again, and she moaned, while Yaz's kisses made their way down her throat, towards across her collarbones.

"How badly d'you want it?" Yaz held the Doctor's breast in one hand, kept the lubed up hand on the bed.

"So badly," the Doctor said, and she gave a hiccuping gasp when Yaz pinched her nipple. "So badly, please Yaz, please, I want it more than I've ever wanted anything in my life!"

Yaz kissed lower, along the side of the Doctor's breast, pausing now and then to give a little nip. She took the Doctor's nipple into her mouth, flickering her tongue along the tip, and the Doctor writhed against her. The Doctor's hands were in Yaz's hair now, and when had that happened? It was nice, but distracting.

Yaz pulled off of the Doctor's nipple with a pop, and she looked into the Doctor's eyes. "Hands on your head," she said, in a voice that she hoped sounded dominant.

"What?" The Doctor blinked at her, dopey with arousal.

"Your hands. Put them on your head," Yaz said. She ground her knee forward, and the Doctor arched into it, pushing those lovely breasts of hers even further forward.

The Doctor's forehead wrinkled, her eyebrows almost meeting. She seemed to be struggling to get her thoughts together, and that was a novel idea. The Doctor, so turned on she couldn't think straight.


"Because," Yaz said, and she pulled away, off of the bed, away from the Doctor, "I'm your Dominant, and I told you to."

"Oh," said the Doctor after a beat. "Well. That's a good reason." Her hands moved up, her fingers lacing together and resting on the crown of her head.

Yaz snickered in spite of herself. "Stay there," she told the Doctor. "I just need to... get ready." I'm not panicking, she told herself firmly, as she bent down to pick up the harness and the blue dildo from where she had left it on the floor. I'm just getting ready.

"D'you need help?" The Doctor called, as Yaz slipped into the attached bathroom and closed the door. "I know the straps can be tricky!"

"I'll be fine," Yaz called back. "Stay there. Keep your hands on your head!"


She could do this.

* * *

Yaz washed her hands, splashed cold water on her face. She took off her trousers, debating keeping her knickers on, and eyed the harness. She’d never used one of these before. She’d seen it done in enough videos late at night under the covers.

It took her a few minutes to figure the harness out, then get it situated, untwisting strap and adjusting buckles.

The dildo sticking out in front of her looked… silly. It wiggled a little when she walked. She paused, looking at herself in the mirror, and she tried not to wrinkle her nose. She would not concentrate on how silly she was looking, with a blue cock and her shirt still on. She was going to go out there and fuck the Doctor, and that was that.

* * *

The Doctor was still lying on the bed, her hands in her hair. She was pressing her thighs together, and she was rocking her hips, pressing the plug a little deeper inside of herself. She looked up when the door opened, and her eyes went wide.

"Wow," she said, and she licked her lips. "It doesn't sit on you the same way."

"Sit on me?" Yaz made her way towards the Doctor, and she was acutely aware of the way the dildo bounced with every step that she took.

"That," the Doctor said, her eyes flicking towards the dildo, then back up to Yaz's face. "It sat differently on me."

"Have you worn this one before?" Yaz was standing at the edge of the bed now. She wasn't sure why she was so nervous about getting on it, and yet.

"Well, no," said the Doctor. "Mine was more... built in. And not blue."

She squirmed, and her thighs were opening a little wider. Yaz could see her vulva, flushed and pink under the curly blond hair.

"Pity. It would've matched the TARDIS."

Yaz took a deep breath, and then she grabbed the Doctor's thigh. She crawled between the Doctor's legs, spreading the Doctor's thighs open, and she kept eye contact.

"I... Yaz, I want to touch you," the Doctor said, and there was a desperate neediness to her voice. "Please, I've been good, I've been so good, I've kept my hands up, see, look!" She wriggled her fingers, ruffling her hair, and Yaz smiled in spite of herself. It was such a... Doctor thing to do.

"Where d'you want to touch me, Doctor?"

Yaz leaned forward, and she put her hands on the Doctor's breasts. She kissed the Doctor's sweet, panting mouth, her tongue sliding along the seam of the Doctor's mouth, tracing along the Doctor's teeth, and she sighed into the kiss, as her fingers pinched and rolled at the Doctor's nipples.

"Any... anywhere you'll let me, please, Yaz," the Doctor gasped, and she was trembling. She craned her head forward for another desperate, needy kiss, and Yaz leaned back, just to tease, to watch the Doctor pout when she was denied.

"Hold on to my shoulders," Yaz said. "You can hold on to my shoulders while I fuck you, since you've been such a good girl." She paused, and then she sat up, so that she could line the head of the dildo up with the Doctor's cunt. "Are y'ready?" She wished she didn't sound quite so... nervous, but the Doctor seemed to be too distracted to notice.

"Thank you Yaz, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank -"

The Doctor stopped her babble as Yaz pushed the head of the toy inside of her. Her whole face opened up, her mouth dropping open. Her hands were on Yaz's shoulders now, fingers digging in, and her knees were digging into Yaz's sides.

"Good girl, taking it," Yaz said, and her own voice was breathless as she pushed her hips forward. "Good girl, Doctor, fuck..."

She was all the way inside of the Doctor - she could feel the Doctor's wetness, up against the front of the harness, soaking into her own knickers. She withdrew her hips a bit, then pushed forward, and the thrust was nudging the Doctor along the bed, just a little.

"It's so much," the Doctor breathed. "It's so much, it's so... oh, it's so full!" She squeezed her eyes shut, her face scrunching up, and her heels were digging into Yaz's ass, the backs of Yaz's thighs. "You're so... oh, Yaz!"

Yaz smiled, breathless, and she leaned back, sitting up enough that the Doctor had to let go of her shoulders. She looked down at the spot where the blue dildo vanished into the Doctor, and she admired the way the Doctor's cunt stretched over it, pink and glistening.

"Look at that," she said, and she pulled out until almost all of the dildo was out of the Doctor, just the head remaining. Then she thrust back in, and the Doctor howled, her head thrown back.

"It's... fuck, fuck, fuck, Yaz, I need... Yaz, please, please, I need..." The Doctor was trailing off, and she was tugging at Yaz's shirt, trying to pull Yaz back down.

Yaz leaned down, awkwardly positioning one hand between the two of them so she could rub the Doctor's clit. She supported herself on one forearm, and she kissed the Doctor again, using her added height to dominate the Doctor's mouth. She was trying to keep a steady pace with her hips as she carefully fucked into the Doctor, and the Doctor seemed to thrash against her with every nudge of her thumb, every press of the dildo inside of her. The base of the dildo was nudging Yaz right above her clit - not quite enough stimulation to make her come, although it was still enough to make her cunt clench, little jolts of pleasure slipping up and down her spine.

"Yaz, please, please, I need something, I need... oh fuck, Yaz, do that again, please!" The Doctor was gabbling, and each thrust of Yaz’s hips seemed to make her voice go that much higher.

Yaz paused, her cock halfway inside of the Doctor. “What d’you need, Doctor?” She kept rubbing the Doctor’s clit, speeding up now, and she could almost feel the Doctor’s cunt squeezing the strap.

What if I had a real cock? What if I could feel this, more than I can already?

“What do you need, Doctor?”

It was taking a good deal of effort not to push herself in deeper. She could feel the cock against her fingers, the silicone slippery with the Doctor’s arousal. She kept rubbing the Doctor’s clit with her thumb, and she really loved the way the Doctor’s face kept scrunching up as Yaz kept distracting her.

“I need… your fingers,” the Doctor panted out.

“You’ve got ‘em,” Yaz told the Doctor, and she tapped the Doctor’s clit with the tip of her index finger, which made the Doctor keen and arch her back up, taking more of the strap on inside of herself. “All for you, Doctor.”

“My mouth,” the Doctor said. “I need… I need them in my… please, it’s empty, I don’t wanna be empty...”

“Just about the only empty part of you right now,” Yaz teased.

"I don't want it to be empty," the Doctor said, and her voice came out as one long whine. "Please Yaz, please! Fill me up, I want to be filled up with everything, I want - mmf!"

Yaz shoved her fingers into the Doctor's mouth. Two fingers, resting on the Doctor's tongue, then begin to thrust them in time with her hips. She had to angle herself a little differently, so that she was grinding against the Doctor's clit, and then she was adding another finger, and another, until four fingers were stuffed into the Doctor's mouth.

The Doctor whimpered around them, and her tongue flickered between them. She sucked hard enough that her cheeks hollowed out, and she was drooling down her own chin, shiny and wet on her neck, her collarbone. She pushed her chest forward, and she was spreading her thighs wider, trying to take Yaz in deeper.

"Good girl," Yaz said. "Good girl, taking it, take it, take... it..."

What was she even saying? She wasn't sure what was pouring out of her mouth, as she fucked the Doctor hard enough to shake the bed. She pushed herself in deep, barely pulled out when she rolled her hips, and the Doctor kept whimpering around her fingers, clutching at her shoulders. The Doctor's teeth were blunt against the joints of her knuckles, and the Doctor's heels dug into the backs of her thighs. There was sweat dripping down her sides, between her breasts, pooling behind her knees and in her armpits. She was so wet, and it was hard to pay attention to any one thing that her body was doing, because it all seemed to be happening at once.

"Yaz," the Doctor said, garbled, then; "please!"

The Doctor went tight and stiff, and her teeth dug into Yaz's fingers. Her whole body seemed to pulse as she came, and Yaz kept fucking into the Doctor's mouth with her fingers, as she ground her hips forward. Her face was blissful and ugly, and a few tears were tracking down her face as she went flat on the bed, panting.

"Good girl," Yaz said, her own voice shaking. "Good girl, wasn't that good?" She withdrew her fingers, and she cupped the Doctor's face, her damp fingers resting on the Doctor's cheek.

"Wow," the Doctor said, and she sounded faintly stunned. "Don't think I've ever done that before." She paused. "Although now I'm a bit crushed. Could you get off me, please?"

"You already got off," Yaz said, and she giggled in spite of herself. She wasn't the one who'd had an orgasm, so why was she so light headed? She angled her hips carefully, pulling the dildo out of the Doctor, and then she was flopping down onto her back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as she came back to herself. She was so horny, and so sweaty. She hadn't realized sex could be that sweaty.

"I did," the Doctor agreed, and she nudged Yaz in the ribs with an elbow. "That was amazing," she said, and she sounded faintly shocked. "Really... wow." She rolled over onto her side, and she wrapped her arms around Yaz's middle, throwing a leg over Yaz's own. She nuzzled her nose into Yaz's temple, and she sighed, a gust of hot air across Yaz's face.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," said Yaz, and then she snickered at herself. She was reminded of being a kid at the end of a birthday party. Thank you very much for inviting me.

"What's so funny?" The Doctor propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at Yaz.

"I don't even know," Yaz said, and she giggled, cupping the Doctor's face, her thumb against the Doctor's cheekbone. "I think I might be shagged out."

The Doctor's skin was warm - not warm as a human's, but warm otherwise. The sweat on her face was beginning to dry, going tacky.

"You can't be fucked out," the Doctor said. "You haven't even had an orgasm yet." She paused. "Have you?" Her eyebrows furrowed together. "D'you want an orgasm?"

"'course I want an orgasm," Yaz said. "How could I not?" She sighed as the Doctor sat up fully, tucking her own hair behind her ears. "Orgasms are excellent."

"Some folks don't go in for 'em," said the Doctor. She stretched, her hands over her head, and she arched her back. She stretched, and then she was climbing off of the bed.

"Mmm?" Yaz kept lying there, her thighs sticky with her own arousal. "I do. I go in for 'em."

"I can assure you," the Doctor said, and now she was climbing back onto the bed, crouching over Yaz's legs, "I go all in.” She grinned. “D’you like that one? I’ve always had a weakness for poker references.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever heard you make a poker reference,” said Yaz. “Don’t you prefer snap?” She reached a hand out, patting the Doctor’s bare thigh, and the Doctor sighed and leaned into it.

"I know tons of card games," the Doctor said. She looked down at the dildo, still shiny with her own arousal, then looked up into Yaz's eyes. "You ever gotten a blow job?" She asked it so casually, the same way she'd asked Yaz if she'd ever had baklava, or ridden a giraffe.

"Well, no," Yaz sad. "Since I don't have a dick."

"Y'don't need a dick to get a blowjob," said the Doctor. "I mean, technically, you've got a dick right now."

"It's your dick, if you want to get technical," Yaz said, and she was giggling in spite of herself.

"Is it?" The Doctor leaned forward, and Yaz watched the way her breasts hung down, watched the Doctor's mouth descend down onto the dildo, her lips stretching thin as she took most of it. She was bobbing her head, and one hand was on Yaz's hips, to keep her balance. The other one was holding on to the base of the dildo, and was pressing it against Yaz's clit.

Yaz tangled her fingers in the Doctor's hair, and she rolled her hips forward. She liked the sight of the Doctor's head bobbing in her lap like that, liked it a lot more than she thought she would. She tugged gently on the Doctor's hair.

"Look up at me," she said, and she shivered when the Doctor's eyes met her own. "Good girl, look at you."

The Doctor pulled off of the dildo with a pop, and she made a big show of licking the head. "I think I want that inside of me again," she said, in a thoughtful tone.

"Do ya, now?" Yaz grinned, and she trailed a finger along the Doctor's leg. "I'd get to it, if I were you." She grunted as the Doctor climbed on top of her, momentarily putting pressure on her belly. She held onto the dildo, positioning it so that the Doctor could put it into herself, and she watched, entranced, as the Doctor slowly sank down onto it.

"It feels... bigger this way," the Doctor said, her voice breathy. "Oh wow." She made a high pitched sound when Yaz's hand came up to rub her clit, and her knees dug into Yaz's sides. "Oh!"

"Is that a good thing?"

Yaz kept her voice mild, watching the way the Doctor's breasts bounced as she rocked on the dildo. Yaz's cunt clenched around nothing, and the dildo was pressing against her clit, more of a tease. Her legs were too sore for her to roll the Doctor over and fuck her all over again, but it was a temptation.

"It's... it's good, Yaz, it's so good!"

The Doctor's head tilted back, and she was clutching at her own hair, arching her back enough that her breasts stuck out even more. Her little pink nipples looked like they would be perfect in Yaz's mouth, and Yaz hissed, shoving her hips forward and then sitting up awkwardly. It was too much of a tease, seeing the Doctor like that.

The Doctor made a startled noise, holding on tightly to Yaz's shoulders. She kept holding on, as Yaz shuffled back, until her back was supported. The Doctor sighed, as Yaz began to kiss along her neck, then full on keened when Yaz's mouth found the soft spot under her jaw and began to suck. Her hearts were beating desperately against Yaz's own chest, as Yaz began to rub her clit again, a little harder this time.

"They... they have special dildos," the Doctor said, and she gave a little squeak with every pass of Yaz's thumb. "They have special dildos that... mmm... that you'd be able to... to feel... you'd be able to... oh!" She squealed when Yaz sucked her nipple, nails digging in to Yaz's back. "Oh, fuck, Yaz, don't stop, please don't stop!"

Yaz swirled her tongue along one nipple, pinching the other one with the fingers of her free hand. She could feel the Doctor let go of her shoulders, and then the Doctor was holding on to the headboard behind her. The Doctor was working her hips faster, and her slick was soaking into the front of the harness, getting all over Yaz's thighs. Her cunt was hot, and Yaz could feel the spot where the dildo was sinking into it.

The Doctor's knees kept digging into Yaz's sides, and the rocking of her hips was getting faster, harder - it was more like rutting than grinding, but her clit was throbbing against Yaz's thumb, and then her back was arching, and she was gasping into the top of Yaz's head as she came. She didn't push Yaz's face away from her breasts, and Yaz pulled off of the one nipple she was sucking to nuzzle into the Doctor's other breast, pressing little kisses along the curve of it, towards the nipple.

Yaz liked the way the Doctor's skin tasted, the softness of it against her lips, the give of it under her teeth. She liked the way the Doctor shivered against her, when she began to suck on the other nipple, and she definitely liked the little broken noise the Doctor made, seemingly as she was on her way to another orgasm.

The Doctor's clit pulsed under Yaz's thumb, and her breath rushed across the top of Yaz's head. She sobbed as she came again, and then she went boneless against Yaz, her hips slowing down. She rested her forehead against the top of Yaz's head, and her breath sent little puffs of air across Yaz's face.

"I couldn't do that in the last body," she said in a strained voice.

“Mmm?” Yaz let go of the Doctor’s breast, to nuzzle into the Doctor’s neck. Her hands slid up and down the Doctor’s sides, and the Doctor squirmed against her.

"It was usually one, maybe two, and then I was done." The Doctor climbed off of the strap on, carefully, and she looked Yaz up and down. "You're still wearing a shirt," she said.

"I am," Yaz agreed. She'd sweated through it at this point, and it was sticking at her armpits and along her back.

"And your knickers, under all that," the Doctor added, making a gesture towards Yaz's lower half.

"Yep, I am," Yaz said, and she grinned. "D'you have any more astute observations to make?"

She let her fingers trail along the Doctor's chest, squeezing a breast, then cupping the Doctor's face. Her head was foggy with arousal, and with that same feeling of being In Charge that she'd had at the club. She wanted to put her hands all over the Doctor, wanted to fuck her again, to kiss her.

"I'm gonna make you come," the Doctor said, and she was looking at Yaz through her eyelashes as she said it.

Yaz flushed, and she licked her lips. "Is that so?" She tucked a piece of hair behind the Doctor's ear, traced the shell of it, then gently tugged on the chain.

The Doctor shivered, but she nodded. "Definitely," she said, and she leaned forward, tugging on the hem of Yaz's shirt. "But first, let's get this off."

Yaz let the Doctor pull her shirt up and off, leaned forward so that the Doctor could unclip her bra. She sighed as their bare breasts pressed together for the first time, and then the Doctor was kissing her, nervous, almost tentatively. The strap on was pressing into the Doctor's stomach, smearing the Doctor's own arousal across her skin. Her hands were on Yaz's sides, and then she was kissing along Yaz's neck, under her ear.

"I want to be good for you," the Doctor said, and her voice was quiet. "Can I make it... can I be good for you? Can I make you feel good? Please, Yaz, I..."

Yaz held the Doctor's face in her hands, pressed their foreheads together. "I trust you," she told the Doctor, and she was surprised at the degree of emotion that was leaking into her voice. "Be a good girl for me, and knock my socks off."

The Doctor pulled back, looking down at Yaz's feet. "You're not wearing any socks," she said, as her hands went to Yaz's breasts. "Oh, I've been thinkin' about these," she said, in an earnest tone of voice. She kneaded them, her thumbs circling over Yaz's nipples, and Yaz squirmed against her, her legs spreading wider.

"Have you?" Yaz's voice came out faintly strangled, as the Doctor plucked gently at her nipples.

"You have amazing breasts," the Doctor told her, and then she was leaning forward. She was pressing Yaz's breasts together, and her tongue was flickering over Yaz's nipples, moving from one to the other. She took one nipple into her mouth, the nipple and the breast with it, and she sucked hard enough that her cheeks hollowed out. When Yaz looked down, she could just make out the blissed expression gracing the Doctor's face.

"You have been thinkin' about doing this, huh?" Yaz was faintly surprised at how put together she sounded. Every pull of the Doctor's mouth seemed to be sending the tension further and further up her back, stoking the heat in her belly.

"So much," the Doctor said. "So, so much, I've been thinking about... mmm..."

She took Yaz's other nipple into her mouth, and she sucked on it, twisting the other, wet nipple between her fingers. Her mouth was cooler than a human's, warmer than the air around them, and her tongue was doing things that were making Yaz's eyes roll back. The Doctor bit down, gently, and Yaz moaned deep and low in her throat, sinking back into the pillows heaped up against the headboard.

Time lost its shape for a little bit. She hadn't ever had someone this into her body before, and it was a head rush. The Doctor was trying to get as much of Yaz's breast into her mouth at once, then nibbling and kissing every inch of it. She was leaving hickeys, and that probably wasn't a very... submissive thing, but Yaz liked it. She liked it a lot, liked the idea of the Doctor wanting to mark her up. She had her hands in the Doctor's hair at one point, and all she could think was mine.

"Mmm," the Doctor said, and then time came back, a little bit. "I really want to eat you out," she said, and her tone was so straightforward - no coyness, no flirting, just a flat statement of her intentions. It made Yaz's stomach twist in interesting, exciting ways.

"I'd like that," said Yaz, "although you'd have to get this off first." She hooked a finger under the straps of the harness, wriggled her hips.

“I could probably work around it,” the Doctor said, her expression thoughtful. “If you wanted me to try, I mean.” She winked at Yaz, and her expression was downright devilish now. “A good submissive is resourceful, after all.”

Yaz groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “You’re incorrigible,” she told the Doctor.

“Gonna punish me for it?” The Doctor’s tone was so casual that it wasn’t, and Yaz paused, looking sidelong at her.

“D’you want me to punish you?” Yaz tugged gently on the Doctor’s hair, and the Doctor tilted her head back, her mouth falling open.

“I think so,” said the Doctor, after Yaz had stopped pulling. “But not now.”

“Right,” Yaz said, although she wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information.

“Let’s get this off,” the Doctor said, and then she was fiddling with the straps of the harness. She patted Yaz on the hip, and Yaz lifted her hips up, let the Doctor pull the harness and her knickers down her legs, tossing them to the side.

It took some self control not to cover herself up, although she wasn’t even sure why she was so self conscious. She sighed when the Doctor pressed against her, the length of their bodies pressed together. The Doctor’s breasts were pressed into hers, and the Doctor’s hearts were beating against Yaz’s chest. It was odd, to feel the double heartbeat, equally odd to be kissing that cool mouth, feeling it warm up against her own. She wasn’t sure why she kept getting used to and then being shocked by all of the Doctor’s differences. Everything was happening in starts and stops, and it was almost - almost - overwhelming.

The Doctor kissed down Yaz’s neck again, and her tongue flickered out to taste Yaz’s pulse. She sighed, when Yaz clung to her shoulders, and the puff of hot air sent goosebumps up and down Yaz’s back.

“Can I ask you a question?” Yaz said, before her brain had a chance to catch up.

“Always,” said the Doctor, as she pushed her face into Yaz’s breasts again, then moved lower, to kiss all along the softness of Yaz’s belly. She nibbled at the delicate spot under Yaz’s navel, and Yaz squirmed, giggling a little bit.

“Is it… the fact that I’ve only got one heart, does it bother you?” Her hands were in the Doctor’s hair again, wrapped around her fingers. When had that happened?

“Nah,” said the Doctor. She pressed a wet, open kiss to the crease of Yaz’s thigh, then bit Yaz a little lower. She was on her belly between Yaz’s legs now, and she looked up at Yaz, her expression downright devilish. “I love doin’ this,” she told Yaz, “but it’s been a while.”

“Right,” Yaz said, dazed. “I, uh… I’m sure you’ll do great.” She giggled in spite of herself, because she sounded more like she was encouraging the Doctor to recite a speech or ride a bike.

“I will,” the Doctor agreed. “I am very good.” She said it with so much self assurance, as she wriggled closer, until her breath was right up against Yaz’s wet slit. It was faintly ticklish.

Yaz giggled in spite of herself, and then her giggle turned into a moan, as the Doctor's tongue traced down along the seam of her labia, from her perineum to her clit. The tip of her tongue swirled over Yaz's clit, and Yaz moaned again, a little louder. She was sinking down into the pillows, and her fingers were tangled firmly into the Doctor's hair.

The Doctor grabbed Yaz's hips, and she wriggled. There was some more arranging - Yaz wasn't really paying attention to the logistics of it. She wasn't paying attention to the logistics of anything, except for the fact that the Doctor's tongue was between her labia now, and her tongue was almost cold compared to the humid internal heat of her cunt. She shuddered at the contrast, throwing her head back and rolling her hips forward. The Doctor's mouth seemed to be everywhere, and her fingers were digging into Yaz's hips.

The Doctor's hair was ticklish against Yaz's inner thighs, and her mouth was opening wide. She had all of Yaz's vulva in her mouth, and her tongue was sliding in and out of Yaz, fucking her sloppy and sweet. It was all so wet; Yaz's own arousal, dripping down her thighs, the Doctor's spit moving down towards Yaz's arse.

The Doctor swirled her tongue inside of Yaz's cunt, and then she pulled back, sealing her lips around Yaz's clit. She sucked, hard enough that Yaz saw stars behind her eyes, and Yaz actually squealed.She would have been embarrassed, if she had it in her to think in a straight line. As it was, all she could really do presently was hang on, as the Doctor's mouth worked along her vulva, tongue doing who even knew what. Yaz didn't know. Yaz didn't know anything, except the rise and fall of her own chest, the pleasure that seemed to be radiating out of her like a star. Her toes were curling against the Doctor's sides, and the Doctor's skin felt that much colder, because she was burning up so hot. Or was she?

Yaz looked down at the Doctor's face, between the valley of her own breasts, over the swell of her stomach. She caught the Doctor grinning at her, and then the Doctor did something especially complicated with her tongue, and Yaz sank further back, until she was more or less lying flat. What had happened to all of the pillows? Had she just flailed them out of the way? That was a distinct possibility.

Yaz's thighs were squeezing tighter, pressing against the sides of the Doctor's head. The Doctor's jaw was moving, as she licked and shifted, and she was sucking on... something, her tongue was going deeper, then sliding out of Yaz to drift lower, along Yaz's perineum - is she going to rim me? Yaz wasn't... opposed to the idea, but it felt like the sort of thing that you talked about beforehand. Or at least made a vague mention of. Maybe. Did the Doctor ever give any mentions of anything? Then her tongue was back up, slipping back between Yaz's labia. Her nose was pressing against Yaz's clit, and she was making some kind of pleased, wet noise. She kept fucking Yaz with her tongue, her jaw shifting to press her lips against Yaz's vulva, and then she was letting go to move up further, wrapping her lips around Yaz's clit and sucking.

Yaz's orgasm seemed to come out of nowhere, although she wasn't sure why she was so shocked. It had been building and building, at the base of her spine and deep in her guts. The Doctor's hair was biting into her fingers, and the Doctor's breath was still ticklish, the Doctor's mouth was warming up but still cooler than any mouth Yaz had ever had against her cunt. The pleasure was like falling through the ice, a shock of sweetness and heat leaving her reeling as she lay on the bed, her cunt spasming, her clit throbbing in the Doctor's mouth.

She ground her hips forward chasing the last little bits of pleasure, and the Doctor made more muffled, wet noises, her tongue still swirling along Yaz's clit. Yaz whined when the Doctor let go of her clit, then hissed, as the Doctor gave it a little kiss, before resting her chin on Yaz's heaving stomach.

"I forgot how much I enjoy doing that," she said, and she nuzzled her cheek into the soft skin of Yaz's belly. Her chin was sticky with Yaz's arousal and her own spit, and it was rubbing off on Yaz's own skin.

It shouldn't have been as sexy as it was.

"It doesn't feel like you forgot," Yaz said, and her voice was rough. She was still shaking, her legs tensing and relaxing on either side of the Doctor's torso. She was still getting hit with the occasional aftershock, which left her twitching and shivering. "Seemed like you were well acquainted."

The Doctor grinned at her, a wide, gleeful smile that made Yaz's heart beat that much faster. "I love humans," she said, and there was so much... enthusiasm in her tone that it made Yaz's heart ache, just a bit. "You lot, you're so... warm, you're so wet, you're so physical, the way Time Lords never were. At least, not in my memory." Her face did something complicated, and she sighed when Yaz tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, the tips of her fingers ghosting over Yaz's labia.

"Is it that different, doing it with a human, versus doing it with a Time Lord?" Yaz shivered, and then she sighed as the Doctor’s finger slid inside of her, curling up, pressing on her g-spot.

The Doctor’s mouth was back on Yaz’s vulva, her tongue seeking out Yaz’s clit. She was sucking now, and it was just this end of uncomfortable, edging Yaz towards over stimulation. She sobbed, flopping back, and her fingers went to her own hair. She twisted it around and around her own hands, and she panted up at the ceiling as the Doctor did… who knew what with her tongue.

Yaz was running her hands across herself, kneading her breasts, grinding her hips forward. The Doctor was licking now, long, flat passes of her tongue against Yaz’s clit. Her thumb was doing something as well, rolling her thumb over Yaz’s clit, licking around her thumb, and she pressed another finger, still curling as she thrust, curling her fingers. Her knuckles bulged, stretching Yaz’s entrance. The Doctor’s cool mouth left her clit, to kiss along Yaz’s belly, soft little kisses.

“You’re so warm,” the Doctor said, kissing Yaz’s vulva again. “You’re so warm, and I can feel your heart beating, all around me. You’re so tight and so wet, so silky inside…” Then she started licking again, licking harder this time, her tongue flickering against Yaz’s clit in such a way that she couldn’t keep track.

Yaz’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she dug her heels into the Doctor’s sides. She could hear the Doctor humming, making wet sounds against her vulva, and she was moving her face back and forth, giving her more stimulation in ways she couldn’t comprehend. The Doctor’s fingers were pushing her towards her orgasm, thrusting and curling, pulling her in such a way that fireworks went off all along her spine.

“You taste so good,” the Doctor said, and then she was pushing her whole face into Yaz’s cunt.

Her mouth was wet and soft against Yaz, a counterpoint to the hardness of her fingers, and Yaz let herself drown in it. The Doctor’s tongue seemed to be everywhere, her fingers were a strong, solid presence inside of Yaz. Her jaw kept moving as she licked and sucked, her chin moving against Yaz’s perineum. Her tongue was occasionally replaced with her thumb, and she kissed and nibbled along the insides of Yaz’s thighs.

It was a rolling wave of an orgasm, long and sweet. It set off another, as the Doctor kept licking. She lay there, letting herself take the pleasure. She had her hands in the Doctor’s hair, and at one point she ended up holding the Doctor’s free hand. After the fourth one, she nudged the Doctor in the ribs with her foot. “I think,” she began, and her voice was a croak.

“You think?” The Doctor looked up, and her eyes were bright. She squirmed closer, until her head was resting on Yaz’s chest, listening to Yaz’s heart. She let her eyes drift shut, and her eyelashes were ticklish against Yaz’s skin.

“I think a lot of things,” Yaz said. She stroked along the Doctor’s back, which was slick with sweat. “You… that was amazing,” she said. “I’ve never come that hard before. Ever.”

“Well,” said the Doctor, “I’m sure I can do better than that.” She looked up at Yaz, her pointy chin digging into Yaz’s breastbone. She kissed Yaz’s chin, and Yaz tugged gently on her hair.

“I’m sure you can,” Yaz said, “but I don’t think I can take much more. I’m only human.” She laughed, and then she caught the Doctor’s awestruck look.

“You are human,” the Doctor said, and she kissed Yaz on the chin, “and it makes you so amazing.”

“Well,” Yaz said, as the Doctor snuggled closer to her, “I may be human, but you’re a good girl.”

The Doctor shuddered against her, and Yaz smiled down into her hair.

“We’re still gonna need to return that thing,” Yaz said, as the Doctor squirmed off of her, sprawling next to her.

“Do we need to?” The Doctor squirmed, & Yaz glanced up, to see that the tiger’s eye rod was still inside of the Doctor.

“Yes,” Yaz told her. “But,” she added, “if you’re a very good girl, we can go back to the club afterwards.” She wasn’t sure if that was the type of thing she should have said, but… well, the way the Doctor shivered against her suggested it was a good one.

Maybe she was better at this Dominant thing than she’d thought.