Doctor Who: Panic Moon Ch. 34

Christina could do nothing but blink; she hadn't been expecting this, though truthfully she didn't know what she had been expecting. If there was one thing the rich and famous could be relied upon for, it was circuitous, endlessly euphemistic language; in short, the total opposite of what Blake had shown her so far. Part of her appreciated the candour.

'The short version of this conversation is that I've become dreadfully bored with the entire situation, and it irks me that I remain centre stage in my parents' desperate search for familial credibility,' Blake ran a hand through his hair, evidently not finished with his speech. 'In the end, I feel as if cutting to the chase would benefit us both, in that it will allow us to be done with this in an hour or so, rather than a whole day. So: I am in need of a wife. You are, through no fault of your own, a candidate in that, and no doubt subject to the same pressures that I am, in that respect. For my part, I don't care about your title, but I do care about your... skills, if we are to be seeing each other day after day. We have privacy here, and since it's almost impossible to get a true grasp on a person in a single meeting, we might as well at least have some fun, no?'

Again Christina blinked, words stalling on her tongue, as she seemed to be making a habit of as of late. Thankfully, it didn't take her long to recover this time, and she paused just long enough to temper the combination of outrage and curiosity and nervousness that rushed up to meet her at his words.

'Mister Blake, that sounds an awful lot like an intimation that we have sex, to me,' She said, fixing him with her most placid, in control gaze. 'Which would be, of course, a highly inappropriate proposition to make, all things considered.'

'But also entirely to the point, and... well, enjoyable, if I'm being completely honest,' Blake countered, his confident exterior not cracking in the slightest. Christina could only shake her head and laugh.

'I'm not going to have sex with you, Mister Blake,' She said. 'I didn't even know you were going to be here until a few minutes ago, and I don't generally progress from that state of affairs to... this, within the space of minutes, as a rule. Keeping that in mind, I think you should leave.'

Christina turned to the door, hearing Blake sigh behind her in a manner both loud and overly dramatic. What he said next froze her in her tracks.

'That's an awfully lovely necklace you're wearing, Lady de Souza.'

As surreptitiously as she could, Christina looked down to check her jewellery situation. A gold chain embraced her neck, terminating a tasteful distance from her cleavage with a blue gem, a sapphire, gripped by tendrils of gold, thin and delicate. It was, she knew almost instantly, that it was one of her recent acquisitions, something she had thrown on thoughtlessly, more focused on how it looked than its origin. What else had there been, at that moment? She hadn't known why she was dressing up at the time...

'You know, my sister has a necklace exactly like that,' Blake continued, as Christina's eyes remained affixed to the necklace. 'Which is funny, because hers is unique, custom made and one of a kind. It's coincidental, really it is, that you have one so similar. Truly, one of those strange, small world moments.'

Christina felt her shoulders slump, the offense that had mobilized her so mere moments ago draining out of her, but Blake wasn't finished.

'Of course, my sister was robbed last night, so she doesn't have her necklace anymore.'

Shit. Shit.

It was an amateur move; not showing off something you've stolen was only logical, and if she hadn't been occupied with other things Christina was sure she would have paused and rethought her choice in accessories. But there had been too much she hadn't known, too many things on her mind, and in her half-attentive haze she had made a simple mistake.

The exact same sort of mistakes that get a thief thrown in prison, if they made them out in the world. Why should she assume that her own home wasn't a part of that?

'I think you understand what I'm saying, Christina,' Blake said eventually. 'You have a lovely new necklace, and a reason, I think, to reconsider my earlier proposition.'

She was beaten. She knew it, deep as her bones. This man had her dead to rights, and she only had herself to blame. Rapidly, Christina's mind cycled through her options, finding none that were terribly appealing; she couldn't send him away, he'd simply inform the police and it would be over. She couldn't challenge him, she had not a leg to stand on. Momentarily the idea of attacking him came to mind, after all she hadn't gotten so good at the burglary game without learning how to defend herself, but she quickly dismissed it; she might be able to make him submit temporarily, but eventually he would leave and it would be over. The only way to properly resolve that solution would be to kill him, and then she would have a whole new, worse problem to deal with.

'Yes,' She said finally, forcing herself not to tense up. 'I suspect I should be reconsidering now, hmm?'

'Oh yes,' Blake nodded. 'Right now, in fact. For example, in the time it would take for you to cross the room to your bed and sit down. That should be sufficient time to favourably reconsider what I want here, yes?'

'Oh, I rather think so,' Christina etched her words with acid sarcasm, the only defence mechanism she had left, at the end of the day. It only seemed to amuse the man in her bedroom, though, and he watched her as she walked past him, cognizant with every step of his eyes on her ass, the curve all too well displayed in her little black dress. She perched herself daintily on the edge of the bed, batting her eyelashes with deeply sarcastic coquettishness, giving him the kind of smile that bespoke nothing but impending violence. In a better world, that smile would be all too truthful.

'Ah, look,' Blake said. 'It seems you've come around. How wonderful!'

He followed her at a leisurely pace, hands still in his pockets, strolling across the rug toward her and, just before he reached her, leaning in to place a hand on her knee. The fact that she flinched seemed only to please him.

'Now, I'm willing to forget your earlier reluctance, Lady de Souza,' He said in a low, yet commanding voice. 'We all have moments like that, nobility or not. But I expect you'll be a good girl for me now, right? After all, you want to make a good impression on your suitor, uniquely positioned as he is to save your family from a lingering dissolution through poverty. Good wives are dutiful in the bedroom, after all, and I'd only want a good wife...'

As he spoke, he had begun to slowly raise the hem of her dress up, over her knees to reveal the creamy, soft flesh of her thighs. Christina didn't bother to look down, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of showing her dismay at what he was doing. Nevertheless, she felt him push her hem higher, until he ended up touching her belly, the panties she had chosen on full display.

Wordlessly, Blake's fingers slipped in between her thighs, not forcefully but with enough insistence to tell Christina not to resist. He pushed completely between them, and, with the same gentle but necessary pressure, began to separate.

'Good wives spread their legs, my Lady.'

Christina glared, but obeyed. She let her legs split apart, sat still as Blake ran the flat of his palms along that soft, smooth flesh, from knee to hip and back again, his grin growing wider with every moment. Slipping under the fabric of her panties, he parted the purple silk and grazed his knuckles against the sensitive skin beneath, right up against the cleft of her pussy. Christina shivered despite herself; she had never been touched there before, let alone with such daring confidence.

All at once, those probing fingers became a hook, dragging down her underwear inch by inch until it hung past her knees, held aloft only by the tension of her spread legs. Christina finally allowed herself to look affected by what was happening, hanging her head low, her dark hair making a curtain to obscure her eyes. Anything to keep him from seeing the impact he was making.

He knelt down before her, brushed her raven locks to one side, unconcerned by what she wanted. Cruel blue eyes looked up at her.

'Now, all you need to do for now is sit still, Lady de Souza. That's not a hard request, just sitting there,' He said, voice low.

With that, he leaned in, one hand on either knee to keep her legs firmly apart. She shivered when he blew a stream of warm air over her clit, and practically bucked when he leaned in yet further and touched the tip of his tongue to it.

It seemed to be just the signal he was waiting for, as from then on he attacked her pussy with gusto. His mouth locked itself onto her pussy, one hand reaching up to push back on her chest, leveraging her body to a degree that opened up her most sensitive areas more fully to his touch. Christina found herself blushing almost immediately, the creeping, confused heat of shame and sudden stimulation too much of a surprise for her to suppress. She squirmed, but didn't do so with enough range to remove herself from his touch; there wouldn't be much point in trying to escape him now, after all.

Blake's tongue found her clit and stayed there, licking differing and increasingly complex patterns around that sensitive bundle of nerves. Waves of unwanted pleasure coursed up her hips, marching up her spine with electric intensity, each one as distinct as the motion of the tongue that produced them.

She was unprepared for it all. She came quickly.

The surge of pleasure carried with it frustration, more than any other emotion; how could she succumb so quickly, so easily, to the ministrations of this little man? She was Lady Christina de Souza! Not some whore, twitching and panting, cumming on a stranger's tongue. As her toes curled and her breath caught in her throat, Christina shivered through a hot wash of shame, groaning despairingly at the back of her throat.

'Mmm, that's right...' Blake's eyes flicked up to meet hers, where previously they had been absorbed in his oral task, locked on her increasingly wet and aching cunt. 'That's what I wanted to see...'

With one final flick of his tongue to Christina's oversensitive clit, a flick that left her gasping, Blake disengaged and stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The smile he offered her was thin and satisfied, and very nearly moved her to slap him and wipe it off his face. She could barely keep still when he leaned in and dragged the strap of her dress down off of her shoulder, in the process dangerously lowering the top of her dress, very nearly baring her breasts.

'Just so you know, you aren't special,' He almost growled, his voice so low and lustful that the words came out with a predatory edge. 'I do that to all the girls that get thrown at me. If I do marry, I'll want a sensitive girl, who cums readily. A lot of them let me do that willingly, since oh do they like my money, but you? Well, if you cum that easily when you don't want to, then...'

He trailed off, but only for the moment it took to switch gears from word to deed; moving from sound to action, Blake's lips collided suddenly with Christina's, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth before she could recover from the initial shock. If she was blushing before, Christina's cheeks were positively aflame at this, at the intrusive and alien taste that filled her mouth, that her embarrassment immediately put a name to.

It was her own juices. She was tasting her own forced orgasm on the tongue of the man who had forced it upon her.

'Oh, my Lady de Souza...' Blake sighed wistfully as he withdrew, catching sight of her furiously blushing cheeks for the first time. 'I am going to enjoy you. Over and over, if I have my way. And I think I will, all things considered...'

Having said that, he finally pulled her dress down completely, Christina's chest bared as the dark cloth crumpled and folded down the generous curves of her breasts. Blake stalked forward, one hand fumbling with the clasp of his belt as the other moved in to grope his target's now bared flesh, pushing her down onto her back in the process. Slipping up between her legs, he let his belt fall slack and his pants slide down his legs, his cock springing to the fore with tumescent enthusiasm.

'Now then, this is a big house,' Blake said, running the tip of his erection up and down her shamefully dripping slit. 'If you should feel the need to scream, moan, or otherwise make noise, I'd say go for it. I'm sure nobody will hear it, and besides, I like my girls loud...'

His palm ended up resting at her collarbone, keeping Christina pinned to the bed as he slowly moved further up, the head of his cock splitting the lips of her pussy and embedding itself further with every second. Closing her eyes, the Lady de Souza turned her head to one side, keeping her legs spread and allowing herself to be fucked by this stranger, her posture as comfortable as she could make it. Tears prickled and dampened her eyelashes, but she resolved herself not to visibly cry; she was a de Souza, even if she was currently at a disadvantage. She would be damned if she was going to show weakness in front of a pervert like this one.

'You're still blushing, my Lady,' Blake spoke, his voice carrying the strain of his exertions, as he fucked her with mounting force, and by the way Christina could feel the heat of his breath on her cheek, she could tell that he was rather close, hovering over the top of her. This suspicion was confirmed almost immediately, as she felt the hot, wet pressure of his tongue swirling around her nipple moments later, the sheer surprise of the sensation drawing a tremulous groan from her throat, part despair and part desperate pleasure. Blake continued then, the sound of her voice barely faded from the air, 'What are you thinking of, I wonder? Is it my cock, deep in this wet, tight hole? Or perhaps it's wedding bells you're dreaming of, so I can do this to you every day thereafter?'

'Neither, thank you very much,' Christina snapped, keeping her head resolutely to one side, as though Blake was unworthy of her full attention. In Christina's estimation, this was more or less true, and if it weren't for his rather... imposing position over her at the current moment, she wouldn't be giving him a second glance.

But, of course, it is rather hard to avoid the gaze of someone who was balls deep inside you.

'Well, maybe start,' Blake shrugged, giving Christina a particularly deep and forceful thrust, hard enough to make her bounce on the bed, her head almost falling off the side. 'There's no reason you shouldn't get some enjoyment out of this too. After all, it's going to happen. Besides, who knows what information might slip out of me if you don't behave like a good, enthusiastic little potential wife, eh?'

This got her attention. Christina's eyes snapped up to meet his, diamond hard and furious blue, her lips curling into a snarl that threatened to collapse into a pleasured moan at any moment; even as she reacted, Blake continued screwing her to the bed.

'You wouldn't!' She exclaimed breathlessly, her fingers clenching little creases in the sheets. 'You can't, not after all this. That wasn't the deal!'

'Try me,' Blake growled. 'I don't care what happens to you until that marriage license is signed, and not a moment before. The fate of Lady de Souza doesn't interest me in the slightest, as I can ruin you and run off to some other little debutante, maybe the little redhead from the Englund family, or the tasty Japanese dish from the Saburatas. You are not, Lady de Souza, so much of a rare quantity that I can't afford to lose you if I want to.'

Christina grit her teeth and bit back a reply, muscles trembling with the strain of... oh, so many things. She was holding back from hitting him, holding back from fucking him, from crying out, disengaging and running away... possibilities stretched out before her, and yet Christina simply forced herself to take none of them. Passivity was all she had, here. But Blake wasn't finished in testing her resolve, on that point.

'Now, the fate of Lady Blake, on the other hand... That is something I care about,' He grinned, leaned in and nibbled a trail of kisses up her neck and to her ear. 'I couldn't allow anything so vulgar as a conviction for breaking and entering for a Missus Blake, that would tarnish my reputation so. If you think about it, Christina, the little engagement ring I've got in my dresser back home is your only assured method of retaining my silence. So if I were you, my Lady, if I wanted to remain a Lady, I would reach up and make sure the man I'm with is properly entertained at all times. Now, wouldn't I?'

Christina was well aware of the image he wanted her to assume, the role he desired her to play, and surely he must know how it grated on her even to contemplate it. She had spent much of her youth and adulthood straining against the expectations of her nobility, the demure affectations she was supposed to wear in public; independence was far more her speed, but her family's financial straits had put rather more demand on her to be conventionally attractive to her rich potential husbands. One needed a certain degree of social cache and monetary freedom to shirk off the conventions of the society in which one found themselves; being free to do what you wanted, while simultaneously being too poor to, was no fun at all.

In short, having to grin and bear it while playing a role was a possibility Christina was well acquainted with. Hell, from a certain perspective she had been doing so for a large part of her life, as her true desires had gravitated more to the adventure and stresses of burglary. But she hadn't expected it to rear its head so conspicuously, so soon; she knew she would be courting suitors at some point in her life, but had consigned it to the vagaries of the future, as some unavoidable hurdle to occur sometime in her twenties, not at eighteen.

A bloom of sudden pride within her almost prevented her from acting entirely, a hot and angry voice in her head demanding that she shove this man off of her and stand on her own two feet, but it was swiftly clamped down. She was, at heart, a pragmatist; resisting now would simply be counterproductive, whereas knuckling under would at least let her plan, and play her cards better in future. She could still come out of this on top, so to speak, so long as she was careful and, above all, patient.

'Come here then, Mister Blake...' With a small part of herself still hating every moment of this, and not hesitating to remind her of that at length, Christina leaned up and ran her fingers through Blake's thick, dark hair, using her newfound grip to pull him in closer. Suppressing a shudder, she kissed him, allowing him entry into her mouth without the slightest hint of resistance, her hips moving to meet his continuing thrusts in a marked contrast with her previous frigidity.

'I'll show you what a good wife I can be...'

****************

Dulcimer rocked back on her haunches, clenching and unclenching her hand as though the swell of rage and shame that Christina had associated with this most recent memory had left a physical mark on her skin.

If grinning were possible for a Dullahan, she would be doing so.

'Okay, that's more like it,' She spoke to nobody in particular, as the brunette remained inured in her past. 'Let's see how deeply that goes.'

To be continued...