Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

River and Yaz crashed through the TARDIS door and up the steps, gripping each others’ arm and doubled over, laughing. The Doctor was a few steps behind them, closing the door and leaning against it, breathing hard. She looked up at River and Yaz, who were still caught up in the adrenaline of everything that had just happened, this completely unexpected and unplanned adventure where they ran – or crashed, really – through River’s timeline, and got caught up in one of her many cons. The Doctor stayed by the door, watching the way the other two seemed to so easily lean into each other, appearing at the same time to be like the oldest of friends and the newest of flirtatious crushes. The Doctor wasn’t sure how she felt about this. She continued to watch them from a distance, as River leaned in and whispered something in Yaz’s ear. The Doctor could see Yaz’s breath catch in her throat. Nonplussed, the Doctor suddenly moved away from the door and took long strides to appear beside them in an instant.

“You ok, Yaz? You took quite a few hits back there.”

Yaz’s eyes flicked away from River’s, towards the Doctor, registering the change in mood.

“Oh, I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt,” she said, quickly, seeming to blush as she took a step back from River. “Well, ok, maybe it hurts, but if I’m totally honest, I don’t mind the pain.” Yaz laughed a bit nervously as she rubbed her arm, in the place where the hardest of the blows of the recent battle had no doubt left bruises under her sleeves. “It makes me feel alive.” Seeming to realize that what she said might not be the most obvious reaction, she looked up to see River grinning at her, while the Doctor’s expression remained inscrutable.

River’s infectious and irresistible laugh rang out. “Oh, darling, I know exactly what you mean.” She had a notable glint in her eye and moved to take a step closer to Yaz.

The Doctor could feel all the whirling emotions inside her, and was absolutely uncomfortable with acknowledging them. She stepped between River and Yaz, distracting them both with her fidgety energy.

“River, this meeting… it wasn’t supposed to happen. You were never supposed to meet this version of me, this regeneration. With everything that’s been going on, with all of the chaos… I made a mistake. You can’t keep these memories. It’s important that you don’t know about this regeneration.”

River rolled her eyes.

“Oh, sweetie. You can’t be serious. I’ve met so many different versions of you, some of your past regenerations don’t remember meeting me, and everything has worked out fine so far.”

The Doctor stepped closer to River, locking eyes with her.

“I’m serious. It’s important that the next time we meet, you don’t know about any of the regenerations past number 12.”

The two stared at each other for a long minute, a silent battle of wills taking place. Finally, River sighs and acquiesces.

“Fine,” she says. Then a mischievous look comes over her face, and she steps in closer to the Doctor to speak quietly in her ear, while looking at Yaz over the Doctor’s shoulder. “But before you make me forget all about tonight, why don’t we make it a night that the two of you will remember forever?”

For Yaz, it was as if time stood still. She stopped breathing, eyes unblinking as she watched River draw back, look the Doctor full in the eyes, and lean in to kiss her, with the familiarity of someone who had known the Doctor for a long time, but also with the exploratory approach of a first time.

The embrace lasted no more than a second, no less than an eternity. Even the Doctor seemed powerless under River’s thrall. As River finally pulled back, the Doctor’s own breathing was jagged, and it took her a few seconds to notice that her hands were now cuffed behind her back. She didn’t fight it. Everyone in the room knew that the Doctor could get out of the cuffs if she wanted to – who hadn’t seen her do it a dozen times? – so it wasn’t the physical restraint that seemed to have quelled her. They were all under River’s spell, and the Doctor, silent in a way so rare in her existence, watched as River, one hand holding the Doctor’s arm, turned and reached her other hand towards Yaz.

“What do you say?” she asked. Yaz didn’t even pause. She held out her own wrists in front of her, outstretched. River laughed softly, took out a second set of cuffs that seemed to appear out of no where, and gently but firmly attached them to Yaz’s yielding arms. She gave them a little tug, pulling Yaz’s body towards her, and leaned in, eyes searching for permission, and, getting a nod from Yaz, pressed her lips to the eager mouth before her. A warm and buzzing energy seemed to fill the air around them, all three lost in the moment.

When River slowly pulled away, one hand firmly on each of her cuffed companions, they were both completely at her mercy. She grinned, turned, and linked her arms through each elbow.

“Well, now,” River said, confidently. “I know just where to take you both.” She led them down the tunnels of the TARDIS, and through a door that Yaz had never noticed before. Walking purposefully toward the corner, River sat Yaz down in one of the two chairs that seemed to be perfectly placed in one corner. She then pushed the Doctor down in the other chair, adjusting so that her cuffed hands were now behind the back of the chair. She took her time, lowering herself for a moment onto the Doctor’s lap, pulling the Doctor’s gaze upwards, asserting her dominance without saying a word. The Doctor breath was shallow, still uncharacteristically at a loss for words. River leaned in, whispered something into the Doctor’s ear, too quiet for Yaz to hear, then she stood up, walked behind the chair, and seemed to clip the cuffs to a bar that was clearly meant for that exact purpose.

“I’ll be back in a bit, my dears,” she said, to the two faces that were so enamoured with her, they wouldn’t have disagreed if she’d told them they’d be left for days. Then she stood up, strode over to the door on the far side of the room and disappeared.

Without River’s presence, Yaz and the Doctor seemed to become painfully aware of each others’ presence for the first time. The Doctor started fidgeting, as though she was trying to get out of her cuffs, but not trying that hard. Yaz, who was not attached to her chair, didn’t move.

“Have you…” she started, nervous and uncertain all of a sudden. “I mean, do you….is this something you two have done before?”

The Doctor shuffled harder, avoiding eye contact. “No,” she said hurriedly. “I mean, not really. Maybe. Yes. Sort of.”

“What does that mean?” Yaz asked, exasperated.

“Well… River likes handcuffs.” The Doctor said evasively.

“Obviously,” Yaz said, rolling her eyes. She stares the Doctor down, waiting for more. The silence stretches between them.

“You don’t have to do anything, you know that, right?” the Doctor finally looks up at Yaz, and Yaz can feel the vulnerability of what is unsaid between them. She can feel the questions, the conflict, the uncertainty that tumbles around in this amazing soul in front of her. Thousands of years of experience, a universe of knowledge, all of the past heartbreak and loss and loneliness… all of it seems to swirl around them in a tornado of unacknowledged need and longing. The air in the two feet of space between them seems to disappear, and nothing else could even exist. They both pulled relentlessly towards each other, in anticipation and eagerness, and yet so firmly kept apart by uncertainty, like rappelling magnets.

Who knows how long they stayed like that. Moments that stretched into hours, in that state of potential as yet untested. The space between them seemed to shrink. Yaz felt herself leaning in toward the Doctor, whose own body came forward, pulling against her restraints.

Neither of them heard River come back into the room. She watched from the doorway as Yaz and the Doctor stared at each other. She had her own mixed feelings, as she always did when she was around the Doctor. She never begrudged the Doctor her, or his, other relationships, just as the Doctor never begrudged River’s own. In fact, River delighted in knowing that the Doctor continued to develop meaningful relationships, even after so much heartache. She worried that the older the Doctor got, the more regenerations they went through, the less likely they were to form attachments. So it was nice to see the love that was clearly between these two. But she did feel the sadness that came with knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep this memory, that soon she wouldn’t remember of this version of the Doctor, a version she quite liked.

River took a deep breath and refocused on her body. Tonight was going to be something special, a gift for the Doctor and Yaz, even if she didn’t get to keep it herself. She walked over to the chairs in the corner, not trying to be especially quiet, but even so, she went unnoticed by either of the women in the room until she came up behind Yaz, gripped her hair firmly, and pulled her head back.

Yaz seemed to come to awareness in a sudden awakening, the spell between herself and the Doctor dramatically broken, her breath coming in a deep gasp as the sensation of having her hair pulled sent tingles through her whole body. She looked up at River, whose functional outfit had now been replaced with a corset, leggings, and knee-high boots. Her wild tangle of curls was backlit, and the strength and sexual energy radiating out of her made her seem like a goddess, and Yaz was ready to worship at her feet. River was back to take charge, and Yaz was both disappointed and grateful to have the intensity of the moment of vulnerability with the Doctor broken.

River pulled Yaz to her feet.

“Alright now, darling. Here’s how this is going to go. I am going to take you to that bench over there, and cuff you to it. I would like to inflict some pain on that lovely skin of yours, a pleasurable kind of pain, I hope, but pain nonetheless. If it gets too much for you, you can tell me to stop. Say yellow to pause or lighten up, red to stop completely. I will not touch you sexually or penetrate you unless you ask me to. Do you understand?” River said all this clearly and firmly, her hand still tight in Yaz’s hair. Yaz nodded enthusiastically.

“No, dear, I need to hear you say it out loud.”

“I understand,” Yaz’s voice came out in a breathless whisper.

“Pardon me?” River said sternly, pulling Yaz’s ponytail a bit harder. Yaz caught her breath.

“Yes! I understand.”

River grinned. “I like that,” she said. “Have you done things like this before? Pain play, impact play?” Yaz nodded again, this time a little more shyly, a glance at the Doctor registering some surprise on the other’s face. During their 10 months apart, Yaz had explored the kink world as much as she could manage, the feel of it so cathartic when her inner emotional turmoil was too much to bear.

River smiled again at Yaz’s response, then shifted her gaze to the Doctor, who was sitting motionless, watching intently. River could see the Doctor’s chest rising and falling, her breath coming heavier. She winked at the Doctor and blew her a kiss, then turned and pulled Yaz over to the bench a few feet away.

Not just any old bench, this bench was clearly here for this purpose. Although Yaz hadn’t been paying attention to it before, she now took a few seconds to absorb the contents of the room around her. In one corner, a Saint Andrew’s cross stood, cuffs dangling. In the other corner, this spanking bench, designed to be laid on, with places to attach the wrists and ankles. In the centre of the room, a large four-poster bed was made up with dark, inviting sheets. A large wooden chest sat at the foot of the bed. The lighting in the room was dim with a glowing red tinge, plenty of light to see by, but not so much as to be distracting. The room seemed to hum and buzz with sensual energy, as though the TARDIS herself was setting the mood.

They reached the bench in a few steps, and River turned to face Yaz. Leaning in close, she brought her mouth within inches of Yaz’s, and Yaz leaned back in, but River held herself back, not letting their lips touch. Holding Yaz close with that magnetic thrall, she uncuffed her, and slowly removed Yaz’s jacket, dropping it to the floor. Without breaking the spell, River pulled Yaz’s shirt over her head, then slowly unbuckled her belt. River took a small step backwards, and motioned for Yaz to take off her boots and trousers. River walked slowly around Yaz, one finger trailing over the skin of her forearm, up and over her shoulder, up the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. River’s finger trailed down along her spine, expertly unclipping her bra and letting it fall to the floor. Yaz now stood before them both, wearing only a pair of boyshorts, unrestrained but completely unmoving, lost in the sensation of River’s hands lightly touching her skin.

In the corner, the Doctor was mesmerized, taking in the sight of these two beautiful, powerful, intelligent women. She had so much experience with both of them individually; in battle, in friendship, in tenderness. She had caused each of them so much pain, and yet they both continued to choose to be with her. To watch them have this moment with each other, in her presence and yet not about her, was overpowering. She was in awe of them both, and completely captivated.

River gently pulled Yaz over to the bench, until her torso was laying lengthwise over it. Never letting a moment go by without touch, she guided Yaz’s wrists to the restraints, and clipped them in. The light touch of her hands drew a line from Yaz’s wrists, up her arms, down the length of her back, over the soft flesh of her upper thighs, and all the way down her legs, to connect the lower restraints around the knees. With Yaz now full restrained, River took a minute to run her hands over Yaz’s entire body, alternating between the soft pads of her fingers and palms, to the sharpness of her blood-red painted nails. She continued with this alternating touch, causing small amounts of pain, just enough to elicit the occasional surprised gasp, and light Yaz’s skin on fire.

Abruptly, River withdrew her hands, leaving Yaz cold. She could feel both sets of eyes, one restrained on the bench, the other restrained on the chair, follow her as she walked towards the trunk by the bed. She knelt down to open the latch and lifted the heavy lid. Neither Yaz nor the Doctor could see inside the trunk from where they were, but neither was surprised to see River reach in and pull out a dark, rounded handle of a heavy leather flogger. River laid it lovingly on the bed, and reached back in to draw out a few more things. A leather strap. A riding crop. A black silk scarf. Something small and metallic. River picked up her toys, and brought them over to Yaz’s bench, laying them carefully on a nearby table.

River stood over Yaz, her hands once again gently running over the other’s skin. She selected the silk scarf, letting it trail over Yaz’s back, until she placed it over her eyes.

“So that you won’t be distracted,” River said, tying the blindfold on. “You are being watched, but your job is to focus only on your own sensations. On your own pleasure, and pain.” River’s rich and commanding voice took over Yaz’s senses. “Do not worry about how you look or sound. Do not think about what might come next. Be present in your body. Focus on the sensations. Inhabit every nerve ending. Time does not matter. Space does not matter. The only thing that matters is what is happening right now. Relinquish all of your control to me.”

Yaz melted into River’s commands, already high on the endorphins coursing through her body. With her vision cut off and her body immobile, she surrendered to her body and to River’s desires.

River traced her hands back over Yaz’s body, coming to rest on her ass. For the first time since she had taken Yaz away from the chairs, she looked back at the Doctor. Their eyes locked as River brought her hand up, landing the first hard smack on Yaz’s backside.

The sound seemed to take over the room, for a split second that lasted a full minute. Yaz let out an audible squeak. The Doctor inhaled sharply. River let out a breathless laugh, smiled, her tongue poking out between her teeth. This. This was a moment. It was special, it was eternal. She could feel the connection between herself and the Doctor, the connection between the Doctor and Yaz, and her own newly formed connection to Yaz. It was as though they all had been collectively holding their breath, and now they all had permission to release.

With one more look straight at the Doctor, a look that seemed to carry all of their shared experiences in it, River turned her attention to Yaz, and began to spank her, starting with gentle strokes, over and over, causing nothing but warmth and connection to run through Yaz’s core. Her skin started to feel warm, and the accumulation of everything that was happening now, everything that had happened in the lead up, everything that had happened all day, resulted in a quick arrival at the heady feeling of sub space starting to kick in, and Yaz moaned. With a few more light strokes, River then began to spank Yaz in earnest. Her hand came down hard on the soft skin in front of her. Moving to cover the whole area, she hit Yaz on each cheek, on her upper thighs, dead centre. After about 10 hard spanks, she paused, caressing and petting comfortingly, before starting up again. She could hear Yaz’s breath coming in gasps, and an occasional grunt, that breathy mixture of pain and pleasure that River herself was well familiar with. River continued the spanking, pausing every few minutes to pet gently, only to restart with more vigour.

An eternity later, and all too soon, River stopped the spanking, and moved over to the table, where she picked up the small metallic claws she had there. Fitting them snugly over the fingers on her left hand, she reached over and traced a circle on Yaz’s back, which was rising dramatically with her heaving breathing. Yaz arched as the claws dragged along her spine, the sharp sensation punctuated by smacks that came from River’s right hand landing sharply on the backs of her legs. The claws drew a line down her side, and Yaz’s body battled between the torture of being tickled and the staccato pain, not sure whether to laugh or to cry out, and finding something in between the two.

The slaps from River’s hand were suddenly replaced with the sharp smack of something new. The riding crop, with its flexible rod and small leather end, was not as heavy as the spanking had been, but more focused and stinging. Yaz gasped and wriggled as the crop came down 3, 7, 10 times in quick succession, sharp but not too painful. She gasped audibly when the crop moved from the tougher skin of her ass and legs, in towards the much more sensitive skin on the inside of her upper thighs. River aimed a few blows to this sensitive area, drawing a cry out of Yaz before gently dragging the tip of the crop between her legs. Yaz’s cry quickly turned into a moan, as sensations from that slight touch lit her every nerve ending on fire.

In the corner, the Doctor was breathing heavily, her hands starting to twitch in their restraints. Her long coat was starting to feel much too warm in this room.

River moved up Yaz’s body and leaned over to whisper a question in Yaz’s ear. Yaz nodded, and River dragged the riding crop from the top of Yaz’s head down along the length of her body, all the way to the tips of her toes. She put the riding crop and metal claws back down on the table, and hooked her fingers into the waistband of Yaz’s underwear, pulling them slowly over her ass, letting them sit right below the cheeks, and Yaz was pinned there, exposed, observed. With both hands, River dug her fingers hard into the muscle, causing a different, deeper kind of pain. She then brought both hands down hard on her ass cheeks, 5 or 6 times in quick succession, leaving Yaz panting. Easing off slightly, River continued her bare-handed spanking again, reigning down half a dozen hard smacks, then a few lighter touches to the skin, finding that sweet spot of driving Yaz to the edge, and then pulling her back, over and over and over again. Her hand went up to Yaz’s back, weaving her fingers through the long, silky ponytail, pulling gently to bring Yaz’s head up, her back arched. River moved as though she had known Yaz’s body her whole life, reading the smallest of cues that told her how much the body at her mercy could take, where to push her to take more pain, and where to pull back to give her a break.

Yaz was a wave of sensations, her mind whirling and disoriented. She would find herself almost on the verge of tears, the pain of having the same spot hit over and over, about to call out yellow, when River would pause, allow her to take a breath, caress her skin so tenderly that Yaz would forget that just a moment ago, that same skin had been on fire. This pattern repeated over and over, and Yaz barely knew anymore which way was up. The part of her brain that was always overthinking, calculating, second-guessing and wondering… the part that was always trying to live up to the Doctor’s expectations, to impress the Doctor and make the Doctor pay attention to her, the part that questioned whether she was making the right choices, doing the right thing… those parts of her brain were shut off now. Now, for the first time in as long as she could remember, Yaz’s body was in charge, ironically by relinquishing all of its control. She was at River’s mercy, and trusted her so completely.

When River suddenly stopped, the only thing anyone could hear was the heavy breathing of all three occupants in the room. Yaz’s breath came in ragged gasps, almost sobs. River’s was the heavy breathing of joyful exercise. The Doctor’s double heartbeat pounded in her ears. She watched Yaz’s face intently, seeing the play of pain and pleasure clearly. She looked up at River’s face, at the mix of triumph and exhilaration. River caught her eye, and slowly licked her lower lip as she reached to the table for the leather strap.

She lay the strap across Yaz’s back, letting her feel the weight of it. She could see Yaz’s muscles tense as she realized what was coming next.

“I know, you know this one is going to hurt. It’s ok. Relax into it,” she said, her voice husky. “I’m going to hit you 10 times with it. You can count, if you like. It will help you focus the pain.”

River left the strap where it was for a moment, running her hands heavily over the hot skin of Yaz’s ass and legs. She seemed to be considering, thinking about her options. She looked over at the flogger she had brought out, wondering if she should switch it up, focus on Yaz’s back for a while. But she trusted her instinct, set her shoulders, and picked up the strap. All three of them held their breaths in that pause between the lifting of the leather strap, and the inevitable moment of impact.

The leather strap came down hard on the top of Yaz’s ass, and she cried out. They all waited for a moment, as Yaz caught her breath back, and the Doctor could see her mouth move, though her voice was inaudible.

“One.”

River brought the strap up and down again, quicker this time, but no less hard.

“Two.”

The next three followed in quick succession, Yaz writhing under the blows and crying out, but still counting. Both the Doctor and River watched Yaz’s blindfolded face intently, seeing her battle with the pain, but not saying any of the colour words that would immediately bring the pain to an end. By the 8^th blow, tears were running down Yaz’s cheeks from under the silk scarf, and her fists were clenched, but she hung in there.

After the 10^th blow was over, River dropped the strap back down on the table, and put gentle hands on Yaz’s heaving back. She went around the table and knelt so her face was next to Yaz’s, her hands gently and lovingly on her back, arms, in her hair. Another whispered question, and a nod, and River moved to unbuckle first the leg restraints, gently pulling Yaz’s underwear back up, then moved up to remove the wrist restraints and the blindfold. She pulled Yaz to a seated position, leaning back on the bench, and wrapped her arms around the smaller woman in a warm, loving hug before stepping back and guiding her into a semi-seated position on the bench.

“Stay sitting here, for just a moment,” River instructed. Yaz, unable to do anything else with her body like Jello, willingly complied. Her mind was fuzzy, like there were firecrackers going off inside her head. Now that the pain had stopped, her body was tingling, each of her nerve endings on fire. Yaz kept her eyes closed, unable to process anything that was going on around her, and took deep breaths, welcoming the oxygen deep into her core.

River slowly and purposefully walked over to the Doctor, whose eyes tracked her every move. Once again, she sat on the Doctor’s lap, running her hands through the Doctor’s hair, and pulling her head back. The Doctor gazed up at her, completely at her mercy. They held that pose for a long moment, the intensity of everything that had just happened passing between them as crackling energy, and then diffusing. River stood up, and walked behind the chair to uncuff the Doctor’s hands. Rubbing her wrists, the Doctor stood up, dropped her coat onto the floor, then looked back at River and reached out to grasp her hand, weaving their fingers together. The two of them walked back over to Yaz, and each put an arm around her, pulling her upright and catching her as her knees buckled. They lovingly guided her over to the bed and lay her down in the middle. The Doctor lay down, face to face with Yaz, and River came to the other side and lay down behind her. Each stretched her arms over the body between them, hands and arms intertwining until no one knew whose hands were in whose hair or on whose back, and it didn’t matter. They lay there, breathing each other’s breath and listening to each others’ heartbeats.

An hour, a minute, a night, a week later, the Doctor and River both rose from the bed, leaving a sleeping Yaz under the blanket. They walked together down the hallway, back to the control room. Without speaking, from long practice, they moved to the controllers and set course to take River home. As they walked toward the door together, River sighed.

“Are you sure I can’t remember this one?” she asked wistfully, stepping through the TARDIS doors and into her own apartment. “It really was one of our best, you know. You’ve never let me play with one of your companions before.”

The Doctor smiled. “Yaz is special,” she said.

“Oh, I can see that,” River scoffed. She looked at the Doctor intently. “Have you told her that?”

From the way that the Doctor avoided her eyes, she knew the answer.

“Nothing lasts forever, sweetie,” she said gently, holding the Doctor’s face in her hands. “Don’t let the moments of joy pass you by. They are so few and far between.”

River leaned in and pressed her mouth to the Doctor’s. They fell into each other for a long moment, a bittersweet kiss of farewell.

“I like this regeneration,” River said thoughtfully, as she pulled away. “It’s a shame I don’t get to remember it.”

River held the Doctor’s gaze for a long moment, as the Doctor raised her fingers up to River’s temple, leaning their foreheads together, and catching River as she fainted. Laying River gently on her couch, the Doctor pressed her lips one more time to her own fingers, and brushed those fingers over River’s cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Then she stood, turned back to the TARDIS, closed the door, and vanished.

Chapter Text

Barely had the TARDIS ground to a halt, when the door banged open, and the triumphant figure of River Song stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. The Doctor stared at her, gobsmacked, and started sputtering.

“Wait, what?” she said, coming around the console in a hurry. “No, that’s not right. I wasn’t trying to come and visit you! Not here,” she exclaimed, looking at the screen and realizing where, and when, they had ended up, “and definitely not now…” The Doctor’s voice trailed off, memories seeming to dawn on her in quick succession, lending her an expression that quickly shifted from confused to surprised, to a smirk of sudden memory, ending on a somewhat apprehensive look of realization.

River watched all of this play out on the Doctor’s face with some satisfaction. “So you’ve realized when you’ve landed, have you? Remember that night, do you?” River started to walk languidly over towards the Doctor. She was stunningly dressed, in a tight body suit, a leather harness around her chest, red knee-high, heavy soled-boots, and black, fingerless gloves. She looked up and down, taking in the Doctor’s appearance. She walked up the steps, coming nose-to-nose with the Doctor, then taking a circle around her, tracing a finger up one arm, over the shoulders, pausing for a moment to run her fingers up the back of the Doctor’s neck and down again, and instantly the Doctor’s eyes seemed to roll back into her head, as shivers ran up and down her spine. River’s smile widened as she continued her circle around the Doctor, coming to a stop in front again, her fingers lingering on the Doctor’s wrist.

“My goodness, darling. This is something new for you. I like it.”

The Doctor let out a little breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She always seemed to wait for River’s approval whenever their encounters hit on a new regeneration. This was probably one of the better reactions she’d ever gotten. She fidgeted away from River, embarrassed by the attention, starting to babble a bit, before River abruptly cut her off.

“Stop it. Come here,” she commanded. The Doctor dropped off in mid sentence, and moved back to stand in front of River, still fidgeting with her hands. River reached over and grabbed hold of one wrist, pinning it to the Doctor’s side. “So, you remember where you’ve landed. You know that you are in that room I just left, during that long 24 year night… and you know that you are tied to that bed in there, while I came in here. And you know that you are about to take off in the TARDIS. Now, how long that version of you remains tied to that bed, is entirely dependent on what this version of you does in here, for me.” The Doctor had gone still, listening intently to River’s words as she gestured alternately at the door or at the Doctor, depending on who she was referring to. The memories of that night, as her other self, tied to that bed, played themselves out in her mind. Oh, she remembered that night, or rather, that part of that night. She remembered all the parts that led up to it with extreme fondness, but that part, about being tied to the bed, for… what was it? Minutes? Hours? Hundreds of hours? It was unclear in her memory. But what she mostly remembered was how BORING it was! Nowhere to go! Nothing to do! No one to talk to! Nothing to fiddle with! Couldn’t move, nothing… no, that was the worst.

River, knowing the Doctor was remembering all of this, took the Doctor’s face in her hand, and leaned in for a kiss, immediately drawing her attention back to the present moment, to the River in front of her. Her hands came around River’s waist, the familiarity of her overwhelming all of her senses. It felt like it had been so long since the Doctor had been around someone familiar, someone who knew her, truly. Someone who understood her history, her lives, her dilemmas. There was so much fun in the new, the adventures, but underneath, sometimes really deep down, there was always a craving for something deeper. She felt this kiss, in this body, in a way she had forgotten she could feel.

River stepped back, and for a moment they were both a bit dazed. There was something in that kiss neither of them had expected. The air between them seemed somehow solid.

“Hey, where did we end up, in the end? Oh!” Yaz came to a halt, as she walked into the room and saw them both standing there. Breaking the tension, the Doctor and River both turned towards her, surprised. Everyone seemed to freeze for a minute, unsure. The Doctor recovered her voice first, jumping right into hyper mode.

“Yaz, this is River Song. River, this is Yasmin Khan, or Yaz. River, Yaz. Yaz, River. Yes. Um.”

River recovered herself, smiled, and placed a hand on the Doctor’s chest, stilling her. She walked over to Yaz and held out her hand.

“Hello, Yaz. I’m River. It’s so lovely to meet you.”

Yaz, with a knowing smile, looks up at her. “Hallo, River. I’ve heard so much about you,” she was saying, with genuine delight. She stepped past River’s hand and held out her arms for a hug, her eyebrows raised in question, and River laughed and stepped into the hug, the two women embracing warmly.  

“You know,” Yaz started, “we actually met once before.” River raised her eyebrow questioningly.

“I’m fairly sure I would remember that,” she stated, looking back towards the Doctor, who shuffled her feet and looked away.

“Well,” she said, a bit reluctantly, “it was at a certain point in your timeline, before you met that Doctor out there…” the Doctor’s head nodded towards the door, “I couldn’t let you keep that memory. For continuity’s sake.” In the face of River’s changing expression, she quickly added, “You agreed to it! It wasn’t forced!”

River stared at the Doctor hard for a minute, making her squirm, before breaking into a smile and laughing.

The Doctor relaxed again. She was never sure how human social interactions were going to go, sometimes they had unexpected reactions, but she was thrilled when Yaz and River seemed to connect quickly, and that River, knowing about the erased memory now, wasn’t going to hold a grudge.

River stepped back and seemed to take control of the room again with ease. “Yaz, I was just explaining to the Doctor what I expected of her tonight, but realizing you’re here, I want to give you a few options, that I won’t be giving her.” River winked at Yaz, who raised her eyebrow at the Doctor. “I was just telling the Doctor that how well she does what I tell her to do tonight, directly impacts her former self. Now, I understand that the two of you possibly had plans this evening, so I can remove myself from the TARDIS, and my night will continue. If, however, you’d permit me my games for tonight, I would be much obliged. You, in turn, would also be welcome to join us for the games, or if you prefer, we can drop you off somewhere or disappear into the TARDIS. Preferences?”

Yaz didn’t hesitate. “Oh, I’d love to play your games with you,” she said eagerly, taking in River’s outfit and her domination over the Doctor in a heartbeat, and knowing there was no where else she’d rather be. River smiled widely.

“Excellent,” she said. “Now, my dear, as you’ve probably determined, I am the Mistress in this room. The Doctor knows to call me Mistress when we play, and in order to play this game, you will be required to do so as well. Further than that, I would like to know whether you would like to be a submissive yourself in this game, or whether you would prefer to play a role more like my assistant?”

Yaz seemed to consider this for a moment, knowing there would be a multitude of enjoyment either way. “Is it possible to play a little bit of both?”

River laughed. “I think I’m going to like you.”

“Now,” she said, taking in Yaz’s outfit and general appearance. “I need you to go change, while we relocate the TARDIS to somewhere more private. I need to give the Doctor that’s out there a bit of distance to contemplate what it’s like when he has to wait for me to appear. Choose whatever you like to wear, just make sure it’s easily accessible.” She took a step in closer to Yaz, until the two women were mere inches apart. Even though they weren’t touching, the air between them seemed to hum with electricity. Yaz was under River’s thrall already, eager to please her.

River broke the look, stepped away, and pointed, and Yaz turned and hurried off to change. River stepped to the controls, the Doctor watching and silent, as though River had turned her to stone.

---

Yaz hurried toward the room where she knew she’d find River and the Doctor. She slowed and approached the door quietly, hoping to have a moment in more of an unseen observer for a while before engaging. Sure enough, she was able to stay in the shadows of the doorway, unnoticed by the otherwise engaged occupants of the room. She felt a thrill deep in her gut as she watched the well-acquainted lovers, spouses and playmates engage with each other, their familiarity and care containing so much love and joy and history.

River was standing behind the Doctor, sliding the coat from her shoulders, dropping a kiss and trailing her fingers up and down the Doctor’s neck, clearly producing the kind of chills that left the Doctor’s eyes closed and her body language ecstatic. River’s fingers traveled further up the Doctor’s skull, anchoring in her hair and giving a sudden, hard pull backwards, exposing her neck in such a way that invited a vampiric anchoring of teeth. From the doorway, Yaz could hear the Doctor moan as River sucked on her neck.

Releasing the Doctor from her grasp, River moved around to stand a few feet in front of the Doctor.

“Clothes off, I think,” she said, looking at her Doctor in front of her. “Take off everything except your underwear.” River tossed the coat at the Doctor. “Be sure you fold it all neatly in the corner.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

The Doctor moved off to obey, quickly stripping down to a pair of dark blue boxer-briefs and a black sports bra, leaving her clothes in a tidy pile on the chair in the corner of the room. Without seeming to hurry, she was back in front of River in a matter of moments.

“Kneel,” River commanded, her eyes steely. The Doctor, keeping her eyes locked to River’s, slowly lowered herself to a kneeling position. River seemed to be looking at her, contemplating. “Bra off, I think, yes.” The Doctor didn’t hesitate to comply, and the bra was quickly tossed towards the corner.

River’s audible “tsk” was all the Doctor needed to scramble up, pick up the bra, and place it neatly on top of the other clothes, before returning to her kneeling position. River didn’t say anything, but smiled and ran her hands through the Doctor’s hair, her nails dragging along the scalp before giving it a tug, bringing the Doctor’s head back so that River could lean down and plant a kiss on her lips.

River went over to the trunk at the foot of the large, four-poster bed in the middle of the room. Opening the lid, she reached in and pulled out a canvas bag, which Yaz knew contained an assortment of soft, well-worn hemp ropes.  She dropped the bag near the Doctor, and pulled out the first coil, unwinding it carefully and lovingly into her strong hands. Draping the middle around the back of the Doctor’s neck, she formed the first knot in the back, leaving a loop hanging there, before moving to the front to deftly tie a series of knots at the base of the collar bone, between the breasts, at the navel and level with her clit, before bringing the rope through the Doctor’s legs and back up to go through the loop at the back. As River looped the rope around the Doctor’s ribcage and back, creating a simple but beautiful pattern around her body, the Doctor seemed to have dropped almost into a trance, holding her hands above her head as she gave in to the sensation of the rope pulling around her body.

As River tied the last knot and tucked the ends of the rope in, Yaz stepped out of the shadows by the door, and River looked over to her and smiled, waving her over. The Doctor looked up, and both she and River couldn’t take their eyes off the vision that Yaz presented to them.

With her hair piled on her head, Yaz’s neck and shoulders were beautifully exposed. A black corset with purple ribbing was matched with a black skirt, and her bare feet padded silently on the floor as she walked towards the others. River smiled, her tongue poking out between her teeth, and she reached over and touched the Doctor’s jaw, pushing her gaping mouth closed.

Yaz moved to take River’s outstretched hand, and River pulled her in close, one arm circling her waist, maneuvering their bodies close together and leaning her face in just far enough to see if Yaz would react. She did immediately, pulled as if by magnet, bringing her lips up to meet River’s and eagerly opening her mouth. Their tongues teased each other playfully, hands gently exploring back, neck, hair, ass. The Doctor, still on her knees just a foot or two away, made a sound somewhere between a pant and a whine.

Slowly, luxuriously, River pulled away, smiling down at Yaz before turning back to the Doctor.

“Are you feeling left out?” she asked, playfully. Not waiting for an answer, she pointed towards the trunk. “Yaz, dig in there and find the riding crop,” she directed.

“Yes, Mistress,” Yaz skipped over to the trunk, dropping down to her knees to dig through, spending a few moments admiring some of the other toys. She had been in the room once before, but hadn’t been in a position to explore inside the trunk herself. There was almost every kind of impact toy you could imagine in the trunk – which definitely was bigger on the inside than the outside – each placed neatly in its assigned spot, some hanging off hooks, others placed on shelfs. Floggers, whips, paddles, and crops of many varieties and colours; handcuffs, restraints, blindfolds, gags and ropes had their spots; claws, hooks, plugs, harnesses, vibrators and various attachments occupied another section. Yaz almost forgot what she was looking for as she gazed on the sheer variety of options in front of her, but eventually recovered herself and plucked a riding crop from one hook before standing up.

While Yaz had been distracted, River had continued with the rope, taking out another bundle and using it to wrap around the Doctor’s wrists, which were clasped behind her back. Yaz stood to one side and watched, mesmerized by the beautiful, strong hands that moved with such confidence over the length of rope, gently caressing the Doctor’s skin as she moved. 

Finishing up with the ties, River waved Yaz back to her side and taking the riding crop from her hands.

“Kneel,” she directed, and Yaz dropped to her knees, facing the Doctor, a body length between them. They were each watching the other, the ability to communicate just with their eyes not quite as well established as the connection between the Doctor and River.  

Even though Yaz and the Doctor had spent that one night with River, a few months ago, they hadn’t really talked about it, or about anything else intensely emotional. It was so easy to distract and misdirect attention with all of the other frenetic activity that happened day to day, and neither was especially good at just saying what they were thinking. So here was River, about to force something out of them, if not conversation, then some other kind of connection.

River studied them, taking in each of their expressions and body language, and understanding them both probably much better than either of them. She gave Yaz a firm, but not too hard, tap on the ass with the crop, then pointed towards the Doctor. Yaz dropped her hands to the ground and started to crawl towards the Doctor, coming to a stop in front of her and sitting back on her heels. They stayed there, staring at each other.

“You two,” River chuckled, circling them, lightly tapping different body parts with her crop. “So shy! I don’t know where it comes from, you both seem so confident everywhere else. What do you think, Doctor?” her languid voice kept both of her submissives in her orbit. “Would you like to kiss her?”

The Doctor licked her lips and nodded. Yaz seemed to melt, ever so slightly.

The crop came down with a thwack, landing on the side of the Doctor’s upper thigh, and she yelped, more surprised than hurt.

“What was that?”

“Yes, Mistress, I would.” The Doctor quickly sputtered, her eyes darting back and forth between Yaz and River.

“And you, Yaz? Have you been thinking about kissing the Doctor as well?”

“Oh yes, Mistress. Very much.”

The tension in the room seemed to rachet up. Now that the uncertainty was gone, the pull between Yaz and the Doctor seemed inescapable, but neither dared make a move without River’s direction.

River, meanwhile, was enjoying the tension. She loved to watch the two of them, desperate to connect and yet so unable to do it themselves. They had clearly been very much in need of relinquishing all control of the situation, and she was pleased that she was going to be the one to release them.

She continued to circle the kneeling pair, considering her options. She watched their breathing get heavier, the tension mounting, and just before one of them – probably Yaz – hit a breaking point, she conceded.

“Well, then,” she breathed, sitting back on the trunk a few feet away. “What are you waiting for? Kiss her.”

While it wasn’t totally clear which one she was talking to, Yaz didn’t hesitate a moment longer. Hands coming up to the Doctor’s face, she moved in and pressed her lips to the mouth of the person who had upended her life and changed her forever. Everything that had been unsaid between them for so long seemed to pour out of her into that kiss, and their bodies pressed together. The Doctor, hands secured behind her back, leaned in with the rest of her body to reciprocate the eagerness, her bare chest connecting with the corset that cinched Yaz’s in.

River let them have their moment, watching with a mixture of tenderness and sadness. She knew her adventures with the Doctor were coming to an end, even if she didn’t know when, and she would never have this level of intense beginning with anyone again. There was something incredibly special about loving the Doctor, something that burned you for other kinds of love. An addiction, but oh, what a worthwhile one.

River stood, opened the trunk and pulled out a leather paddle, bringing it down on her own hand with a sharp crack, and the sudden noise broke the two new lovers apart. They laughed at the release of tension, both seeming to relax suddenly.

“Yaz,” River instructed sharply, “bring that chair closer.” Yaz stood, rubbing her knees slightly, and moved over to drag the ornate high-backed chair that River pointed to over to where she was standing. River sat in the chair and crossed her legs, the paddle dangling from it’s cord by her finger, and she handed the riding crop to Yaz.

“Now,” she said, “get the Doctor standing.”

Yaz took hold of the Doctor’s elbow, helping her to a standing position. Having been kneeling for quite a while at this point, the Doctor stumbled a bit and grimaced as her knees cracked. Yaz bent down to rub them a bit, and the Doctor flashed her a grateful smile.

“Stand up, Doctor, and spread your legs a bit.” The Doctor straightened her spine and complied, standing tall with her arms behind her back, the knotted rope bodice starting to leave light indents on her pale skin. The rope between her legs chaffed pleasantly when she moved. 

“Yaz, I want you to use that riding crop on the Doctor’s legs. Don’t be shy now. 10 nice, firm smacks. Make sure you get that sweet, sensitive spot just in the inner thigh.” River’s smile started to shift in a slightly sadistic direction, and Yaz bit her lip, hesitating. She’s never hit anyone before, not in this way, not a pleasure kind of hit. She looked up at the Doctor, who winked at her, the rest of her face remaining somewhat expressionless.

Yaz took a deep breath, and timidly smacked the outside of the Doctor’s thigh with the riding crop.

“What was that?” River asked loudly. “Harder!”

Yaz brought the crop down with a bit more force, once, twice, three times, on the backs of the Doctor’s legs. A few more strikes, she made it to ten, and then stopped, trembling slightly, and turned towards River, clasping her hands behind her back.

River frowned at her from her chair, and waved Yaz over. Keeping her eyes downcast, Yaz walked over to River and stood in front of her.

“Now, darling, you said you wanted to be my assistant. You shall need to wield your implements with a bit more confidence in order to satisfy me.” River studied the younger woman in front of her, calculating.

“Come here,” she instructed, and Yaz came up close enough for River to reach out, take her hand, and direct her to stand beside her. Pulling her arm in direction, she bent Yaz over until she was stretched out over her knees.

Yaz’s heart was pounding, her breath coming quicker, but she didn’t hesitate to comply. She didn’t want to let on that this was fulfilling a million different fantasies all in one go for her. She could feel one of River’s arms cinch tightly around her torso, her other hand travelling up her thigh, pulling her skirt up and over, revealing the lace booty shorts underneath. She heard River’s tongue click with approval, her hand tracing the edges of the underwear gently, teasing. With no warning, her hand came down in a hard smack on Yaz’s left cheek, and with hardly a breath in between, a dozen or so more followed in quick succession, and Yaz couldn’t help but squirm and give the occasional yelp, her body held firmly in place by River’s tight grip.

As quickly as it had started, the spanking came to an end, and River pulled Yaz back up to her feet. Her face flushed and her chest heaving, Yaz stumbled to regain her balance. The Doctor, who had been watching all of this with her bottom lip caught between her teeth, almost stepped forward to catch her, before remembering her own captive state.

River held out the leather paddle to Yaz.

“Now that you understand what I mean, I think, take this one instead of the crop. 10 strikes. I want to see marks on her skin.”

Yaz, eyes downcast again, took the paddle and went back to the Doctor. River made a gesture, indicating that the Doctor should turn around so her back was to River, which she did. Yaz still wasn’t feeling overly confident in her ability to top, and wasn’t sure where the line was between causing good and bad pain. Aiming the paddle at the back of the Doctor’s leg, she half-heartedly swung it.

“Harder!” River commanded. Yaz tried again, with a bit more force.

“Harder.” Smack. This time, the paddle landed with force on the Doctor’s ass, and Yaz could hear her suck the air between her teeth.

“It’s ok,” the Doctor whispered. “I can take it. I like it, really.” Yaz met the Doctor’s eyes, and with that nod of encouragement, started to feel a bit more confident. She brought the paddle down in repeat, seeing the Doctor sway slightly under each blow, light red marks appearing on the pale skin of her legs. When she got to 10, Yaz stopped, breathing a bit more heavily, less from exertion than from the newfound appeal of control. She couldn’t help but put her hands on the Doctor’s skin, tracing the faint marks, feeling their warmth.  She dug her nails into the soft skin just below the line of the Doctor’s boxers, hearing the suck of startled breath.

River smirked, content that she had read the situation clearly. “Enjoying the power, are we?” Whenever she spoke, she instantly commanded the room, and Yaz, her fingers still on the Doctor, tracing the lines of the rope up her back, turned her attention back to her Mistress.

“Fetch one of the floggers,” River instructed. “Choose one that doesn’t feel too heavy, but still has some decent weight to it.” River stood and followed Yaz over to the trunk, showing her how to weigh the flogger in her hand, find one that felt right, before they moved together back towards the Doctor. River maintained a connection with Yaz, her hands moving from the small of her back, over her shoulders, and down her arms at different points, showing her how to hold the flogger, hold her stance to avoid fatigue, and pointing out places on the body to avoid hitting. River took a few swings with the flogger herself, face-to-face with the Doctor, bringing it down on her chest, breasts, ribcage, and thighs, grazing over her belly. She then moved around and undid the ropes that held the Doctor’s hands, releasing them, and the Doctor shrugged her shoulders a few times to ease the cramping.

River’s calm and authoritative manner reassured Yaz, and when River stepped back, Yaz, taking the flogger in her own hands, moved to bring it down on the Doctor’s back. The first couple of swings didn’t have much heat on them, but as she gained confidence, the blows came with a little more power and precision, landing with a thwack on the skin showing between the patterned rope. The Doctor, holding her wide stance to stay upright, took each hit with an exhalation, breathing in deep as her skin tingled and stung. Mostly silent, she let out a small squeak when the end of the tassels wrapped around her waist, leaving a small bruise inside her right hipbone.

The flogging continued until River, satisfied, came behind Yaz and stilled her with a light touch to the arm. Yaz was breathing heavily, aroused and sweating slightly.

“Good girl,” River purred, landing a few playful taps on Yaz’s backside. Yaz melted under her touch, adoring the praise, and leaned back to feel River’s body pressed against her. River allowed the touch, and reciprocated by running her hands up the front of Yaz’s body, pressing her lips down to the neck extended in front of her. The Doctor turned around, facing them, asking permission with her eyes, and River nodded. The Doctor moved in, bringing her own hands to Yaz’s waist, her mouth down to the other, and soon all three of them were lost in each other’s touch. The Doctor dropped to her knees, pulling Yaz’s skirt off, and pressed her lips to the bare skin showing above her underwear line. Yaz’s fingers tangled in River’s curls, as the taller woman licked and bit the exposed skin of her neck and shoulders. Fingers pinched her nipples and Yaz gasped, and soon her own arms were pinned behind her back, a hand was between her legs, slippery, guided to the hard nub of her clit, and she couldn’t contain the orgasm that was so close to the surface, it exploded with barely a touch.

As Yaz trembled, held up by the strong arms of the two women around her, she felt the Doctor’s soft lips on her breast, tongue playing with her nipple. She melted into the touch, electrified, spent, and yet eager for more. She pulled at her arms, wanting to reach out, touch someone back, but River held them tight, lightly biting her earlobe. River took a few steps back, pulling Yaz with her, leaving the Doctor looking somewhat bereft without them.  

River felt the backs of her legs hit the bed, and turned to push Yaz into a seated position on it. She then reached into the trunk, pulling out something small and flexible, kind of like a round silicone pad. She walked with purpose back to the Doctor, circling her and wrapping her arms around her. It was the Doctor’s turn to melt, leaning her head back to expose her neck for River’s mouth, River’s free hand travelling up her body, tugging gently at the ropes here and there, playing with the Doctor’s sensitive nipples. With her other hand, she took the flexible silicone pad, and slid it inside the Doctor’s underwear, sliding it around with confidence as the Doctor swooned and her knees buckled slightly. River pulled her hand out, leaving the item lodged next to the Doctor’s clit, and motioned to the remote control that she had left sitting, unnoticed, on the bed next to Yaz.

Yaz picked it up and examined it. It had a few inscrutable symbols on the buttons, nothing to give Yaz any indication as to what each one did, and so she pressed one randomly.

The effect was immediate. The current that pulsed through the Doctor’s body collapsed her to her knees again, panting and moaning. Yaz grinned, watching, and pressed the button again, eliciting a louder moan from the Doctor’s mouth, her eyes barely able to focus. Yaz tried a different button, and this one prompted a yelp that brought the Doctor down onto all fours, panting. River took advantage of the position to deliver a few solid smacks to the Doctor’s ass, with the leather paddle that she had collected again from earlier.

The Doctor, overwhelmed with sensations, could barely keep a focus on what was happening. The ecstasy of the vibrator on her clit, the sharpness of the paddle strokes, and her mind was sent reeling over the edge, fireworks exploding behind her closed eyelids. She was no longer sure if she was holding herself up, or which direction even was up, her mind a total fog. The release of all the stress, all the control, all the worrying and calculating and negotiating… Leaving her full trust in her companions, relinquishing all decision-making. It was better than any orgasm, it was as though every nerve ending was releasing into the world around her, filling it with colour and light, and she collapsed in a heap on the floor.

Yaz, unsure, sought out River’s eyes. River smoothly knelt next to the Doctor, bringing her hands gently to her back, and crooked a finger to invite Yaz over. Yaz, the remote abandoned on the bed, sank down next to the Doctor, hands smoothing her hair as the shoulders below her shook their release. Between them, they pulled the Doctor up, all three of them in a seated huddle on the floor, holding the Doctor tight while she cried.

---

A few hours later, the three stood by the TARDIS console, smiling and laughing, barely able to go a few seconds without some kind of physical contact. Yaz leaned into River’s shoulder, a finger playing with her curls. The Doctor, clearly trying to put her emotional armour back on, was flitting about, but Yaz caught her hand as she passed, and the Doctor squeezed it back.

“So,” River said, straightening. “I suppose I should go back and rescue that former version of the Doctor, tied to that hotel bed.” She looked down at Yaz. “What do you think?” she asked. “About the Doctor’s compliance, I mean. I did say that the better she submitted to my authority, the less time her former self would be stuck on the bed.  Was it worth 10 minutes of being trapped? An hour? 10 hours?” River had that sadistic look on her face again, as both of them looked towards the Doctor, who was blushing now.

“Well, I thought I did rather well,” she huffed. Yaz and River both laughed.

“Indeed,” River agreed, “but we wouldn’t want that other version of you getting too cocky now. He still needs to know who is in charge.”

She moved towards the console thoughtfully. “1 hour, do you think?” she asked Yaz, giving her the final say.

Yaz pulled out her own slightly sadistic smile, knowing how much the Doctor hated being trapped with nothing to do.

“Maybe two. Y’know, just to be fair.”

And with that, River set the course.

Chapter Text

With River dropped off, it was back to being just Yaz and the Doctor again. As soon as the TARDIS door closed behind River, the energy between them shifted, and both of them could feel it. They went from being at the height of intimacy to feeling extremely awkward around each other. The Doctor went right back to focusing on the TARDIS controls, and Yaz excused herself, saying she was feeling really tired.

As she lay down on her bed, staring at the ceiling, Yaz mulled over the two play dates with River. They were some of the most amazing and memorable nights of her life. She replayed each night in her head, committing them to long term memory, wanting to always remember how it was to have someone dominate her like that, and to have the Doctor in her own power. It was intoxicating, so much more powerful than anything she had done before, and she wanted more.

As the days went on, though, and neither Yaz nor the Doctor spoke about their time with River, it got more difficult to talk about it. It frustrated Yaz because it was obvious how much the Doctor had enjoyed those nights, but she was acting like they had never happened. Of course, Yaz wasn’t bringing it up either, so she couldn’t really condemn anyone. So as days turned into weeks, the events remained tantalizing memories, with no new chapters. Yaz started to resign herself to the fact that without River’s influence, maybe they couldn’t find that place between them.

Yaz went looking for the playroom in the TARDIS, but it seemed to have disappeared. One more sign that such activities were no longer in the cards.

--

Yaz leaned her head back onto the wall, uncomfortable on the hard bench of the cell, but without any choices. Her hands were tied with rope in front of her, and the small cell around her contained very little other than the hard bench and a bucket, presumably to relieve herself, although how she would do that with her hands tied, she didn’t know. She desperately hoped she wouldn’t be in here long enough to have to find out.

An annoying string of events had landed her in an 18^th century jail. She knew the Doctor was out there negotiating for her release, but Yaz had already been in here for a few hours already, and by the change of light coming through the small, high window, she could tell it was getting late. She really hoped she wouldn’t have to spend the night here. And why had they left her tied up? It seemed unnecessarily punitive, although Yaz could concede that since they had put her in here for trying to break someone else out of a cell, they might assume she could break herself out if she had her hands available. Still. Unnecessary.

Yaz finally managed to find a position that didn’t cause abject discomfort, and dozed off. She was startled awake by the clanging of the metal door of the cell as it swung open, and she jumped up in surprise, disoriented.

The Doctor was standing in the doorway, staring at her. Yaz smiled and started toward her, but faltered at the look on the Doctor’s face. Was she angry? Usually, when the Doctor rescued her from a situation, she was relieved that Yaz was safe, even gave her a hug. But this time, the Doctor’s face was thunderous, and she didn’t say anything, just motioned towards the door and turned on a heel, walking away. Yaz hurried to follow her down the hall, her hands still tied.

“Um, Doctor? Could you untie me?” Yaz asked, her voice small as she tried to figure out why the Doctor was pissed. It didn’t take her too long, she remembered that she had directly disobeyed the Doctor’s order to stay put, and had gone off to break the target out of jail on her own while the Doctor was otherwise occupied, and had gotten caught. Still, this seemed like an overreaction, especially since the Doctor was clearly ignoring her request to untie her, and just kept walking at her usual fast pace.

They took what seemed to be a back exit, not encountering any guards on the way, which seemed odd but Yaz didn’t ask any questions. She was not used to getting the cold shoulder from the Doctor, even if she was angry. They popped out into an alley, and the TARDIS was parked right there.

Smashing through the door, the Doctor still hadn’t said a single word. Yaz followed, closing the TARDIS door behind her and standing by it, unsure what to do next. She felt a bit helpless in this situation with her hands literally tied. It took away all her feelings of control, and made her feel small. She figured maybe that was the point the Doctor was trying to make, but the more Yaz thought about it, the more it started to piss her off.

There. That feeling of anger. Yaz stoked it, it made her feel a bit more in control again. She did hate having to be rescued by the Doctor, it hadn’t happened in a while as she was getting better at what she did, and this time, it wasn’t even rescue from some particularly terrifying aliens, just a stupid 18^th century jail. Yaz stomped up the stairs to confront the still silent Doctor.

“OK, enough of the silent treatment. It’s childish. Untie me, please.”

With that, the Doctor whirled on Yaz.

“Childish? What do you call what you did today? I specifically told you to stay put, and you went off and got yourself put in jail! Do you know how much finagling I had to do with those guards to get you out? Prisons in the 18^th century, or really in any century, are not where the best of humanity works.” The Doctor’s cheeks were flushed with the rage she had been containing up until then.

Yaz wasn’t about to just stand there and take it, though.

“You don’t just always get to boss me around and act like I have no choice! We both make mistakes sometimes. Now untie me!”

“No.”

Yaz spluttered in surprise. “What?”

“I said no.”

Yaz wasn’t really sure what to say about that. “You’re just going to leave me tied up?”

“Yep.”

After a pause, “For how long?”

The Doctor turned back toward the TARDIS console.

“Until I feel like you’ve learned your lesson.”

Yaz felt like literal steam was coming out her ears, and her voice came out in a low growl.

“I am not a child. You have no right to treat me like this.”

What happened next came in a blur of movement, and Yaz suddenly found herself pinned to one of the TARDIS pillars, her bound hands held above her head and the Doctor’s face inches from her own. The white-hot anger that was burning inside both of them seemed to shift into a different kind of heat, as they stared at each other, breathing heavily.

With her limited mobility, Yaz closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to the Doctor’s, catching her bottom lip between her teeth and biting just hard enough to elicit a small gasp from the time lord, who in turn kissed her back so furiously that her head banged back against the pillar. The Doctor’s free hand came up to rest at Yaz’s throat, thumb and fingers pressed just under the jaw, and she pulled away to stare at Yaz.

“I hate it when you disappear.” The Doctor’s voice was so low, if Yaz hadn’t been inches away from her, she might not have heard it. That small admission, of the fear and worry that was beneath her anger, melted away what was left of Yaz’s own anger. They stayed in that position for a long moment, each trying to communicate with her eyes what she struggled to say out loud.

“Do you want me to untie you now?” the Doctor asked, possibly somewhat sheepishly, but with a distinct note of lust in her voice. Yaz held her gaze.

“No.”

With that one word, everything between them changed. Yaz’s eyes rolled back into her head as the Doctor applied just the right amount of pressure to the fingers around her companion’s throat. She pressed her knee between Yaz’s legs, sending waves of pleasure shooting up her body, and in no time at all, Yaz was complete putty in the Doctor’s hands.

Then, the Doctor did something very surprising. She released Yaz suddenly, both the hand at her throat and the one pinning the roped arms above her head, and took advantage of Yaz’s ragdoll like response to get her shoulder under Yaz’s middle and hoist her up in a firefighter’s carry. Yaz was shocked, not realizing the Doctor could pick her up like that, but it happened so quickly she didn’t have time to protest or struggle, and had to concede feeling rather silly as she was carried, like a sack of potatoes, out of the console room and down the hall. Even though she couldn’t see, Yaz had a feeling that the hidden playroom door might have reappeared, which was confirmed when she was unceremoniously dropped on the satin-sheeted four-poster bed.

Scrambling to regain her dignity and poise, which was difficult with her hands tied, Yaz got herself into a seated position, cross-legged on the bed, and looked around to see the Doctor rummaging around in the trunk at the foot of the bed. She returned with a bundle of small objects in her hands, sitting down on the bed next to Yaz. The first thing the Doctor did was blindfold her, so she had no idea what was coming next. She felt her arms being pulled up again, over her head, the momentum pulling her back to lie on the bed, and Yaz knew her hands were being attached to the bed frame. For a moment, she considered that it was strange that she was still wearing the rope from the prison, but she had to admit, it felt pretty good.

She felt the weight of the Doctor’s body come to rest as the Doctor straddled her, sitting so her weight was concentrated on Yaz’s hips, and the solid warmth of her was comforting. She leaned over and pressed her full length to Yaz’s body, mouth to ear.

“I’m going to try some things with you that might be new for you. You remember how to safeword out?”

Yaz nodded, uttering a breathless “yesss.”

“Good girl,” the Doctor purred, and with those two words, Yaz moaned and lifted her hips up, pressing into the Doctor. The Doctor indulged her for a moment, grinding her weight down on Yaz’s pelvis, making a small circle motion that drove Yaz wild. She tried peaking under the blindfold, to get a look at this rare sight of the Doctor riding her, and she managed to see just enough that she moaned again.

Far too soon for Yaz’s taste, the Doctor got off her and continued with her preparations. She removed Yaz’s boots and undid her belt, pulling her jeans down and off, taking socks with them. With Yaz’s hands so securely tied, there was no way to get her jacket and shirt off, and Yaz started when she felt cool metal on her belly, and realized the Doctor was actually cutting her shirt with scissors. She had half a mind to protest, but realized she didn’t care about her shirt at all, and something about the feel of the scissors sliding up as they cut was thrilling.

Soon, Yaz was lying on the bed with her top half cut open and on display, her knickers and bra still intact. The cool air on her skin gave her gooseflesh, and she couldn’t help but give a little shiver.

The next sensation was that of a thick leather collar being placed around her neck, and Yaz’s breath quickened. No one had ever done this to her before, and she let out an involuntary moan as it was tightened, with the sound of the buckle being closed. The Doctor put her lips next to Yaz’s ear again, biting the earlobe lightly.

Yaz then felt the weight of rope on her belly, and her left leg pulled up into a folded position. The Doctor took her time, dragging the rope along Yaz’s body before moving to start wrapping the rope around Yaz’s ankle, her fingers deft and certain, measuring to make sure there is enough space to fit her fingers between the skin and rope. Yaz again felt confined by the blindfold, trying to inconspicuously rub it against her arm to lift it enough, and she succeeded in getting it up just enough that she could watch the Doctor, who was so concentrated in her task that she either didn’t notice or didn’t care that Yaz could see.

Without Yaz noticing, the Doctor had removed most of her clothing, and was doing her work in boxers and a light tank top. Her face was meditative as she tied the knot at the ankle, then slowly brought the rope around Yaz’s thigh, wrapping it at a leisurely pace, four times, around thigh and shin, ending up near the knee before tying a series of knots down the inside, then back up the outside. Her tongue poked out of her mouth slightly in her concentration, and Yaz felt her heart melt a little bit. The sensation of having her leg bound like this was contradictory. On the one hand, the tightness felt pleasantly confining, and watching the Doctor perform it was thrilling. Yaz immediately worried that her leg would cramp in this position, and as soon as she thought it, she could feel a cramp, so she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, willing herself to relax, and after a minute or so, it worked. She also felt very exposed, having her leg bound in this position, even though she was still wearing her underwear, and she was fairly certain her other leg was about to get the same treatment.

Sure enough, once the Doctor was satisfied with how the first leg looked, she moved on to the right leg. The light brown of the hemp rope, tied so expertly, looked beautiful against Yaz’s darker brown skin. There was no rush in the knotting or wrapping, every movement calculated and deliberate, sensual and intoxicating. Yaz felt her head swimming with the sensations, and knew she was also getting wetter by the minute.

With both legs tied in that bent position, arms tied above her head, shirt cut right up the middle, Yaz made for a stunning portrait, and the Doctor sat back to admire her. Yaz felt, rather than saw, the looking, and soon started to squirm with a mixture of embarrassment and shyness. The Doctor stilled her with a cool hand on her belly, just below the navel, her thumb brushing back and forth lightly on the area just above the pubic bone, sending jolts of sensation coursing through Yaz’s body. Both of the Doctor’s hands then travelled up Yaz’s body, a firm touch that covered most of the skin of her torso, pushing her bra aside to touch the skin of her breasts, her nipples, not staying in one place long but appreciating every inch of her captive lover.  

The Doctor brought her body back over Yaz’s, straddling her once again and grinding lightly, seeing Yaz’s head tilt back slightly with the sensation. The Doctor’s hands came up to grasp the collar around Yaz’s neck, pulling it a little bit so that Yaz’s back arched, breasts up, head back, no longer peaking under the blindfold.

“At least here, like this, you do as you’re told,” came the Doctor’s voice, thick with arousal.

“Yes,” came Yaz’s whispered answer.

“In here,” the Doctor punctuated her words with her fingers, once again around Yaz’s neck and applying pressure, “you’re mine.”

“Yes,” Yaz gasped.

With her fingers still around Yaz’s neck, the Doctor came in to kiss her deeply, her tongue insistent and demanding, Yaz’s mouth compliant. When the Doctor eventually pulled away, Yaz tried to reach up after her, bereft at the loss of the kiss, but the Doctor’s whole body moved up off her, off the bed and back to the trunk for new toys.

When she returned, she once again picked up the scissors, holding them at the waistband of Yaz’s boyshort-cut underwear. She seemed to pause there for a moment, and Yaz realized she was giving her the opportunity to object if she wanted to, but Yaz only lifted her hips slightly in anticipation, and the Doctor made a quick cut to the fabric, once at each hip bone, pulling the fabric away. With all of the endorphins now coursing through her body, Yaz no longer worried about feeling shy or embarrassed.

She felt the press of something small and hard between her legs, rubbing in the wetness that had gathered there. This was the first direct sensation for Yaz, and she groaned in pleasure, lifting her hips to meet it. But the object didn’t do what she expected it to do. It disappeared momentarily, and when it returned, a hard, wet tip pressed to her asshole. Yaz sucked in a deep breath, then concentrated on relaxing her muscles as she felt the plug push gently, but firmly, past the opening. It wasn’t too big, and with a few more deep breaths, Yaz felt the slight pop of it settling in place.

The Doctor exhaled deeply, a muttered “good girl” escaping again. Dammit, why did Yaz like that so much? If someone called her a good girl normally, she’d want to deck them. But here she was, melting like ice cream every time the Doctor praised her. She tried not to overthink it, and focused her attention on the sensation overtaking her body.

The Doctor gave Yaz a few minutes off from high stimulation, rubbing her hands over her skin, and she lowered her head to take one of Yaz’s nipples in her mouth, flicking it lightly with her tongue and enjoying the ensuing moans. She picked up two small clamps that looked like four leaf clovers. She placed one over the left nipple, slowly tightening each of the four screws so that the nipple was held between them, tight but not painful. Yaz, whose small breasts were fairly sensitive, was writhing and moaning with the process. The Doctor repeated the process on the right, once again stopping to admire the beautiful display in front of her.

Moving away once more, the Doctor settled between Yaz’s legs, another toy at the ready. This larger item, warm and flexible, touched Yaz’s clit first, and the direct stimulation sent waves of extasy up Yaz’s body. It didn’t stay there, though, and the tip dragged over the soft folds to come to rest at her opening. By this point, Yaz was so wet, the dildo slipped in easily, and the Doctor slowly pushed it all the way in, and left it that way, the base pressed up to Yaz’s outer lips.

Yaz was completely overcome. All parts of her body were engulfed in the sensations of being filled or restrained, and she was on fire. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her heart was pounding, the collar at her neck tugged pleasantly as a dull ache also registered in her pinned legs. Her body was crying out for release, for completion, for praise. A small peak under the blindfold, and she could see the Doctor watching her, the look of desire so strong on her face that Yaz almost came without any other stimulation. She was utterly undone.

The Doctor lay down full length beside Yaz, her fingers trailing lightly over her lover’s skin, pausing to feel her heart pounding in her chest. She leaned in close to her ear as the fingers made their way down, over the trapped nipples, along the heaving ribcage, over the tensed belly.

“Oh Yaz, my beautiful Yaz. I want you to cum. Can you do that for me?”

Yaz’s eyes rolled back once again. “Fuck. Yes. Please,” her response came out in a whimper.

The Doctor disappeared from beside her, and a few seconds later, Yaz felt a tongue on her clit, gentle but insistent, and within moments, her orgasm overtook her and she cried out. The Doctor pressed her mouth down, drawing the orgasm out longer, and wave after wave coursed through Yaz’s captive body.

When the Doctor finally released her, Yaz was almost crying from the release, barely conscious as the Doctor gently pulled the dildo and plug out, and started to unwind the rope from her legs, first the right, then the left. Hands always connected to Yaz’s body in some way, she removed the nipple clamps, the blindfold, and finished by unhooking the rope from the bedframe and finally unwinding the rope from around Yaz’s wrists.

Yaz lay spent on the bed during the whole process, and when the Doctor finally lay down next to her, she rolled over to face her, seeking some reassurance as she came back into herself and felt the full weight of the vulnerability she had just experienced. The Doctor put her arms around her, pulling her in close and kissing her deeply.

“You are amazing,” the Doctor said softly, and Yaz buried her face in the Doctor’s neck, breathing her in.