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The Doctor, upon entering dark spooky caves in the middle of nowhere, has encountered many things in the past. Terrified children, whole armies, ancient lost pirate treasure- you name it, she’s probably found it at the back of a cave. She likes to consider herself an expert on caves, or at the very least a well-educated amateur.
Which is why it’s really rather surprising to discover a hole in her encyclopaedic cave knowledge when a large, thick tentacle coils around her ankle. She freezes immediately, mind whirling through all the possibilities. Life on this planet isn’t known to be hostile, but it’s also generally mammalian, and she certainly can’t feel any fur on the tentacle that’s now winding its way slowly up her leg. This is some sort of unknown quantity, and therefore she needs to be careful.
“Hello,” the Doctor chances. “My name’s the Doctor. Didn’t know you were in here, pal, or else I’d have warned you before coming into your…home? Playground? Hunting ground?” She voices the last option with just a touch of apprehension as a second tentacle finds her other ankle.
Whatever the creature is, it doesn’t reply to her. Her left leg is ensnared all the way up to her thigh, underneath her trousers- that tentacle currently seems to be trying to figure out if her boxer shorts can be lifted up and explored past, or if they’re too tight to her skin. Her right leg is bound up to the knee, sinuous tentacle still smoothing its way over her skin.
It doesn’t feel unpleasant, she can admit that. It’s a little alarming, and the Doctor is slightly worried that they’ll throw her off balance the second they (or she) try and move. Very slowly, she slips a hand into her pocket, pulling out her sonic screwdriver.
“Nothing to worry about,” she reassures the cave at large, pointing the device deeper into the darkness and switching it on. The high-pitched buzz fills the air, and an orange glow lights up her immediate surroundings. She sweeps the sonic around a little, keeping her movements slow and steady- and then, once again, she freezes.
The sonic has found what looks like a nearly endless mass of writhing tentacles, headless and formless, hypnotic in the way they swirl together. It’s beautiful, utterly beautiful, every tentacle sinuous and smooth and velvet-black, scales shimmering with the soft rainbow refraction of a newly shed snake.
“Oh, hello,” she murmurs. “You’re gorgeous. Brilliant! Look at you…” Mesmerised, she tries to take a step closer, only to flail wildly as the tentacles now wrapped entirely around her legs pull her up short. The Doctor pinwheels her arms, sonic clattering to the floor, trying to stay upright even as she feels her centre of gravity shift just a little too much. There’s a sickening lurch, and then—
And then there’s another tentacle looped around her chest, under her arms, steadying her. She breathes a sigh of relief, then cautiously moves a hand to stroke the strange, muscular length that curls across her body.
“You feel nice, too,” she observes. “Beautiful and soft. Lucky. You ever considered not hiding yourself away in this cave? ‘Bout three miles down the road that way there’s a city full of people who’d love you, I bet. Loads of them are artists, I was helping them solve a gallery heist earlier. You’d look great in a painting.”
The mass of tentacles doesn’t respond except to slip one thin tip inside the low neck of her shirt. Scientifically fascinated as she is, it barely occurs to the Doctor to find it inappropriate. It’s an intelligent creature exploring a new lifeform- she’d probably do similar things if she’d never encountered a humanoid before.
“That’s my chest,” she explains. “My hearts are in there. D’you have hearts? They’re sort of…well, they’re muscles. Very strong. They pulse over and over again all throughout your life, pumping your blood around your body. Brilliant things. You feel like you have blood, you’re all warm. Not like snakes from Earth, they- oh…”
The questing tentacle has found its way underneath her sports bra, the very tip of it playing with her nipple. It’s just innocent curiosity, the Doctor reminds herself. And her own faint prickle of arousal in response is a perfectly normal reflex to having an erogenous zone stimulated.
“Hello,” she murmurs, somewhat distractedly. “Y’know, there’s areas on most humanoid bodies, definitely on my body, that feel better to touch than others. You just found one of them. Are you understanding me? I hope you are. Just wanted to explain the…I think I’m blushing a little. In case you were curious.”
Another tentacle slips up into the sleeve of her coat. It slides upwards, higher and higher, until it can curl along her shoulders and shrug the garment off. It crumples to the floor with a soft noise.
“That’s not part of my body,” the Doctor says. “If you were worried. I wear clothes, ‘cause a lot of societies think you’re really rude if you show up to their house naked. ‘Course, there’s some societies that think you’re really rude if you don’t show up naked. There’s this religious organisation I went to, once, where you had to be naked. I shaved my head, too. Didn’t have to do that. Not sure why I did…”
As she talks, more tentacles slip up under her shirt. As she trails off, they pull it over her head, leaving most of her torso exposed to the air. Her sports bra follows a few moments later, and the Doctor looks down at her bare chest, pale skin appearing stark white in the almost nonexistent light.
“Okay,” she says. “Now I’m wondering if you do know what you’re doing. Are you trying to seduce me? ‘Cause honestly, it’s working. You’re beautiful. You can—“
She chokes off with a moan as a tentacle presses against the front of her underwear. It feels around a little like it’s checking for a penis, then presses harder, insinuating itself between her labia and rubbing her clit through her clothing.
“You do know what you’re doing,” the Doctor says a little breathlessly. “What are you, hm? Lonely? Horny? Eldritch god? Some kind of sex worker? Not meaning any offence, of course, I love sex workers. And eldritch gods, sometimes. And lonely people. I’m a lonely person, usually. I’m just curious.”
She looks down at her body, watching a pair of tentacles curl around her breasts to play with both of her nipples at once. The feeling of them both being teased sends sparks right down her spine, hips twitching involuntarily towards the tentacle rubbing her through her underwear.
As she watches, a thinner tentacle delicately unhooks her trousers, and the Doctor finds herself lifted off of the floor. It’s momentarily disconcerting, being so far out of control, but she takes a deep breath, rationalising that this creature definitely doesn’t seem to want to hurt her.
Her boots slip off and thud to the floor, unlaced whilst she hadn’t been paying attention. Her trousers and socks follow, and then her rather damp boxers, leaving her stark naked and entirely supported by tentacles. There’s a momentary pause, as if the tentacles are waiting for something.
“Well,” she says. “You know what? Go ahead. Whatever you wanna explore, go for it.”
She’s generally pretty adventurous, but she’s found it hard to be sexually open for a while. Most of the people she spends time with, even the gorgeous ones she might normally be all over, have all sorts of preconceived notions about her body, and her own perception is wildly different. This creature, though, seems to take her exactly as she comes. She’s not found many people who do that. Only one other, perhaps, and she can’t exactly just call him any time she wants to—
The Doctor’s train of thought snaps off right there as one thick tentacle wriggles its way directly into her cunt. She’s wet already, and the tentacle is so smooth, pushing as deep as it can and then curling so that more can fit inside her. The sudden shock of it, the pleasurable stretch and the way it hammers right against every good spot inside her as it wriggles, shut her brain right down for a few moments. When a few rational thoughts creep back in, all she can think to do is fuck.
“Keep going,” she breathes, rolling her hips as best she can whilst ensnared. “Just like that, please. Please keep going…”
She moans, head falling back, eyes drifting shut as her body is thoroughly, comprehensively explored. Tentacles massage her breasts and flick her nipples, they stroke across her stomach and thighs, pressing and kneading and circling. One of them plays with her clit, tracing the outline of it and wrapping around to jerk it off like a tiny cock. Deep inside her cunt, the tentacles pulse and wriggle, keeping her utterly full, utterly unable to comprehend anything but pleasure.
There’s a faint clatter somewhere on the floor below her, very much like the sound of a couple dozen pocket-sized objects falling onto the floor. As completely fucked as she is, the Doctor pays it no mind, the thought of it wiped from her head after barely a moment.
More tentacles move to cradle her head, supporting her neck and massaging the tense muscles of her shoulders. They stroke across her scalp, tugging curiously at her hair and sliding across the skin in ways that send shivery tingles right through her body. She feels somehow deeply relaxed even as she’s fucked, the tentacles removing her ability to do anything but lie back in their midst and take them.
The ones wrapped around her lower body spread her legs further, pulling her thighs upwards to expose her, to fit even more tentacle into her cunt. One of them is toying with her arse as well, massaging the tight ring of muscle until it starts to relax. The Doctor moans, open and free, and feels her first orgasm wash over her body in an intense, throbbing, deeply satisfying wave.
She’s dizzy in its aftermath, fucked near-senseless and still fucked harder, the tentacles moving her up and down on the writhing, twitching mass inside her cunt. She’s stretched to the limit of what she can take, but it feels like nothing but pleasure, every part of her massaged and melted and coaxed into pure bliss.
“…Doctor?”
The voice is immediately familiar and so completely bizarre that she thinks she must be hallucinating for a moment. The Doctor frowns, shakes her head to clear it, and then opens eyes she barely even realised she’d closed.
A tentacle is holding her phone up a few feet above her body, the pale glow of the screen making the writhing black mass surrounding her glimmer like stardust. On the screen, she sees an unfamiliar TARDIS bedroom, and sat up in bed, she sees a tousle-haired, shirtless, clearly-just-roused-from-sleep version of the Master.
It’s like a bucket of ice water to the face. And then, because it’s him and he’s unfairly gorgeous like this, her traitorous body shudders with an arousal so potent that she almost forgets that she should be violently angry with him.
“Doctor, what the hell is going on?”
She really should say something. Now that she watches the screen, it’s clear that the Master’s gaze is wandering- his eyes linger on her chest, then the soft V of her thighs, the thrusting mass of tentacles pounding in and out of her as she drips and throbs with pleasure.
“I- I…” She twists a little, looks down at the floor. The contents of her coat pockets are upended across the surrounding few metres, pens and strange rocks and sellotape and weird gadgets littering the cave. A few tiny tentacles are idly prodding at some of them. Clearly, one of them had managed to switch on her phone. And, she realises, the last person she’d spoken to with it had been the Master. He’s still ‘O’ in her phone, she reflects a little bitterly. The ‘redial’ button would have gone straight to him, and apparently the tentacles had also managed to choose the video call option.
The Doctor cries out quite suddenly as she orgasms again, body shaking in the tentacles that surround her. She feels herself clenching, squeezing around the ones fucking into her- they’re in her arse as well, now, a slimmer, twisted mass of them having slipped in there as she was distracted staring at the Master.
“Fuck,” he murmurs on the screen. “You didn’t mean to call me, hm? Your new friend managed it somehow. Hot. Look at you, Doctor, taking them so well. You always were such a good little bottom. So good at taking my cock…”
Her hands curl into fists, body squirming involuntarily as the Master’s voice snakes into her ears. She can’t help where her imagination goes, memories of being practically folded in half as he pounds into her, in this body and at least half a dozen others. He knows what she likes, knows just how to touch her, how to melt her into pliant, screaming pleasure.
“Can these tentacles fuck you like I do? Can they hear me? Bet I could tell them how to get to you, love. Would you like that?”
The Doctor blinks up at him. Her eyes are wide, dark, and his are too- he’s staring at her face, now, his gaze fixed on hers.
“They- they can hear you, I think.” Her voice shakes a little, sentence interrupted by a soft moan as her nipples are pinched, hard.
“Good.” The Master breathes a shaky sigh, a rush of static over the tinny phone speakers. “I’ll have to let them know about the sensitive spots at the sides of your neck, then. Right above your collarbones. You can’t resist being touched there.”
A couple of small, curious tentacles snake up her chest and curl around her throat, massaging her, testing her. It doesn’t take long for them to find the spots the Master is talking about, and the Doctor moans, helpless.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “That’s it, Theta. Feels so good, doesn’t it? Knowing that I know your body. Knowing that I can fuck you even from lightyears away. I can make you come harder than you’ve ever come before. Me. No one else.”
“Technically, it’s the tenta—“
“Second sensitive spot,” the Master interrupts, “is on your clit. The left side of it. Rub there consistently, not too fast, nice and smoothly. Your leg’s gonna start twitching, and then you’ll come so hard you scream.”
“There’s- there’s no way you can know that,” the Doctor says, breathless. She’s still being fucked, focus snatched away from the Master every few seconds by the deep, rich slide of tentacles all the way up into her cunt.
“I do know that, though. You’ve always got that spot. Back when you had a cock, it was the same place. At the bottom of the head of it, on the left- rub that ridge, and you’d melt. And it always makes your leg twitch.” For a moment, the Master sounds almost fond. “You used to kick me sometimes when we were young, it was that strong.”
The tentacle on her clit has moved to follow the Master’s instructions, stroking smoothly back and forth along the left hand side. And, the Doctor quickly realises, the Master is right. The more it rubs her, the more she feels the muscles in her thigh spasm involuntarily, the pleasure so intense that she almost wants to close her legs. She throws her head back and whines without thinking, rewarded by a noise from the Master that’s practically a growl.
“Fuck her faster,” he says, his voice rough. “Fuck her so fast and hard you’d think it would hurt. Do that while you rub her clit, and just wait and see what happens.”
The Doctor knows exactly what’s going to happen. The tentacles in both of her holes pound into her faster all of a sudden, shoving themselves in deep and hard. Her eyes roll back in her head, the intrusion riding the edge of pleasure and pain so perfectly that she can’t think, she can’t even begin to think, all she can do is feel.
She comes screaming, her toes curling and her back arching in her sinuous bindings. Every tweak to her nipples, every smooth slide across a sensitive plane of skin, every little touch makes her twitch and writhe, her body melted and fucked open and completely overcome. The orgasm seems to go on forever, and through it all, the Master’s voice purrs praise and encouragement into her ears.
Time melts away a little after that. The tentacles show no inclination to stop doing what they’re doing, now that the Master has given them the keys to fuck her brains out.
He keeps talking, she’s aware, keeps giving them more instructions on how to ruin her. The tentacles find spots inside her arse that even she didn’t know about, find ways to massage her thighs and her breasts that leave her helplessly whimpering for more. The Doctor isn’t sure she’s ever felt so completely out of control, and yet somehow, she can’t help but love it.
It’s during one particularly long, intense orgasm that she feels hands slide slowly across her shoulders. Warm, rough hands, the sensation distinct enough from the tentacles that her eyes jolt open on instinct.
The Master is standing above her, his eyes blown utterly dark with lust.
She should be afraid, the Doctor thinks. She should definitely mind the intrusion. A phone screen is a safe distance away- right here with his hands on her skin is not.
Somehow, though, all she can think to do is grab his shirt and pull him into a fierce, deep kiss.
He responds eagerly, moaning softly against her lips. The Doctor feels his hand slide down between her legs, replacing the tentacle on her clit. His other hand moves to the back of her hair, holding her firm as he strokes her.
“I had to come,” he murmurs. “Fuck, I had to see you like this. You’re so handsome. You’re so perfect like this- fuck. I had to. I needed you.”
She kisses him again, moans long and low and deep against his lips as she comes again, hard, her spent body twitching and trembling under his touch. Slowly, gently, the tentacles slip out of her arse and her cunt, slick with her come. She feels completely and totally used, her legs shaking as she’s slowly lowered to the ground.
The Master stands above her, his eyes glittering. He looks devastatingly aroused and incredibly smug, and if the Doctor had any energy left at all, she’d shove him against the nearest wall and bite him until he bled, her hand around his cock and her body pressed against his so tight she could hear his hearts.
“Perhaps I should take you to my TARDIS now,” he purrs. “Have my own way with you as well. Bet you’d love that…”
The thought of the Master’s cock inside her is never unappealing, the Doctor thinks. Right now, though…
“Good luck with that,” she says, nodding to his ankles. He blinks, then looks down, eyebrows going up in surprise as tentacles snake up his legs with well-practised efficiency.
“Ah,” he says, then draws in a sharp breath, his eyelids fluttering. Through his trousers, the Doctor can see a tentacle moving over his cock, massaging the bulge in his underwear with firm, strong strokes.
“I think,” she says, a smile curling over her lips, “that I’m just gonna watch the show for a bit. Then…y’know, I bet I have just as many little secrets about your body as you do about mine.”
The Master’s eyes widen, his head falling back as he laughs breathlessly. She watches the tentacles snake up under his shirt, caressing his neck and beginning to undo his buttons.
She’s going to have fun with this.