Author's Note: Hey folks, guess who's back! I don't know, I feel like this instalment took a little longer to finish than the others. Is that the case? Anyway, just a few quick things: One, I'd like to extend a big thank you to all of you who commented or emailed me feedback; I'm making a special effort to reply to each and every email that comes with a reply address, so keep 'em coming, folks. Any criticism or other feedback (encouragement is also good) is entirely welcome, so please do so, or vote if you feel so inclined.
One other thing: On the day Chapter Five went online I came home from college and my girlfriend slapped me over the back of the head and explained in no uncertain terms that the Doctor is actually nine hundred and seven years old, not nine hundred and three. By the tenor of the feedback I've been getting, nobody but her noticed that, but still, my bad.
It also means that I need to thank my new editor, Isabel, who's taking over my usual self-editing and actually being more insightful than that prior nitpicking comment would suggest. Thanks, babe!
Well, with that out of the way, on with the prose!
*
Mara leaned against the cool white tiles, feeling the hot water pound against her skin. She smiled, wiggling happily against the wall and closing her eyes. She hadn't realized how tired she was, during all the action of the day. She had been running on a few hours sleep and pure enthusiasm for a few days now. She couldn't keep it up for long, but Mara knew that she could function without sleep for a while, if she really needed to.
Even so, she was supposed to be on vacation. That was sort of the point of the expensive suite and the crazy, adventurous sex. It was why Amy was tied up in the other room taking part in another bizarre sex game. She shrugged to herself, listening to Amy's strident moans and groans through the wall. She could keep going for a while longer. Weariness was nothing a dose of double-coffee couldn't fix.
The water shut off, and Mara stepped out into the bathroom, shaking out her damp hair. She gasped, jerking with fright away from the mirror. Sander's reflection grinned.
'I thought I told you to be good, Sander,' Mara said. 'And I definitely told you to stick with Amy.'
'I can hear her from here,' Sander said. 'She's lost the game, at least in part. I'm kind of hoping that she'll speak...' He shook his head, 'Anyway, I'm wondering why I have to be good? We were having so much fun together...' He stepped forward, leaning in to kiss her. She swayed away from him.
'You're getting attached, Sander. All that staring deeply into my eyes shit. God knows, I'm as up for a fuck as the next person, but in this case the next person is you, and you are supposed to be sticking it to Amy, not giving me the fucking puppy dog eyes while you're sticking it to me.'
'Okay, so I'm interested in you. So shoot me. What would be so bad about the two of us, together?' Sander furrowed his brow. Outside, Amy screamed, although neither of them could tell if it was in pleasure or pain.
Mara cocked an eyebrow and walked slowly to Sander. Her eyes closely inspected every inch of his face, narrowing as they finally met his own gaze.
'Sander, how long have you known me?'
'Eleven years,' He answered quickly, blinking with confusion but unwilling to pull away from her.
'And we've been living together for all of that time. We've worked together, eaten together... You picked me over Shimizu every time we disagreed. We've had sex... I'm wondering just what it is that you want me to do, boss man?'
'What I want you to do? I can think of a few things-'
'I know it's rare, but I'm not joking this time!' She snapped, cutting him off. 'Do you know why I've kept you at arm's length all that time, Sander Hackett? Why I never even tried to jump your bones before today, even when you were the only guy for thousands of miles for eleven years? I'll tell you: It's because you still wake up in the middle of the night calling out for Elsa. You aren't over her, not by a long shot.'
His eyes widened, and he found that his words failed him. To have it quantified like that, expressed in a single sentence... it was something else. Of course Sander had always known; every action he had taken in thirteen years had been guided by his rage and grief at the death of his wife. But all of that had become... a sort of background noise, he supposed. It had become the emotional equivalent of a rattle in the walls; he knew it was there, but he was subconsciously trained to ignore it most of the time.
And all that time, when he had thought himself totally alone in the universe... Mara had been there, hadn't she? The other constant in his life. Eleven years, and not one day off, not ever. Eleven years they had been together, sharing the joy of the work, and he hadn't realized. Even Shimizu had failed him on occasion, but not Mara. Beautiful, antagonistic, wry, adversarial, mercurial Mara... For god's sake, why had she stuck around such a pathetically obsessed shadow of a person?
Still so close, Mara closed her eyes and sighed deeply. She was silent, frozen, for the longest time. When she looked back up at him, she was brimming with energy and humour again, her eyes smiling.
'You see, boss man? You're still stuck in your rut,' She shook her head with mock pity, walking away from him. 'Still in love with a dead woman. But I'm sure you'll get over it eventually... At least, I hope you do. Anything else would be pathetic. Well, anyway, when you do, I'll still be around. I've nothing better to do.'
'Hey...' Sander said weakly.
'Oh, shut up, Sander. We can still have sex, if you want...' She sighed in a put-upon manner. 'Just drop it and come out to play, Hackett.'
He stood, very still, and wondered what had happened to Mara to make her like this. She was truly magnificent, gliding through the world without anything sticking to her. So resilient, so smart, so pretty. She really was a catch, and Sander was beginning to realize that he may have wasted the last thirteen years trapped in his feelings for Elsa.
He didn't regret his campaign against the Doctor. He didn't regret enslaving Amy. The Doctor's second-hand murder was an entirely separate thing. If he hadn't come to Vesperia, Sander would still be in command, still living with Elsa. He still needed his revenge, no matter the personal growth he went through on the way.
Mara Syfte... What an interesting person. Sander followed her, his footsteps almost instinctual. He was vaguely cognizant that he was paying her, but he knew he would follow her wherever she went. He knew that, at the very least, it would be extremely fun.
Mara Syfte. She had asked him not to fall in love with her.
Maybe she shouldn't have put that idea in either of their heads.
Mara took a second to lean against the wall when she left Sander standing in the bathroom. Her brow furrowed and her mouth twisted into a frustrated line. She had just been joking with him, when she told him that a kiss was just a kiss. She had intended to have casual sex with Sander, just to see how it felt.
But, well... It had been eleven years! Eleven years in close proximity to this man, just the two of them, and the generally absent Shimizu. People developed feelings in less time than that.
Maybe she had gone too far, talking about love. That word... The moment it had been said it had ignited a spark in both of their minds, and now it was there, hanging over their heads.
That word, hanging over their heads like the sword of Damocles.
That word...
'Argh!' She hissed. 'Fuck it!' They all had more important things to deal with. And Sander had his own issues to deal with before they could even take a run at that word.
She slipped out into the hall, determined to use Amy to take her mind off of those brewing feelings.
Fuckin' feelings...
Mara re-entered the main room, Sander right on her heels. They watched in bemused silence as Amy, still blindfolded and shackled to the ceiling, squealed as the vibrator lodged inside her activated, the buzzing filling the room. Her hips bucked forward, her skin twitching in hypersensitivity. Thirty seconds later the sensations stopped, and thirty seconds after that the clamps attached to her nipples electrified, sending a minor current coursing through her like a white heat. She screamed.
Amy's lightless world had shrunk to consist only of her own aching flesh, the two tormenting toys, and the biting chill of the manacles on her wrists and ankles. Her legs tried to squeeze shut around the spreader bar, and once again failed. The pain and the pleasure were beginning to become indistinct. It was hard to tell where one ended and the other began, not that it mattered anyway; thirty seconds of electricity stretched out into an unbearable eternity when they came as regularly as they did. Thirty seconds of agonizingly strong stimulation was not enough to get off on, but it was enough to keep her hanging on the precipice of orgasm just long enough for the clamps to start up again. To her eternal shame, her pussy began to juice at the mere suggestion that either toy was turning on.
In her blind, shaking, moaning world, Amy sensed that someone was drawing nearer to her. The idea flitted by her that it might not be one of her jailers, and she was torn between the shame of being found in this position and the fleeting hope of rescue. Then the cold, dark reality surrounded her again, and she realized that it must be Mara or Sander returning from wherever the hell they had gone. Her mind desperately edged around her options; how long had it been since the game began? Half an hour? Forty-five minutes? One minute? She had lost track of time, of the cycles of the toys, of everything except the blistering sensations of her body. How much longer could she hold out?
The clips stopped their abuse of her tender tits, and it seemed like an instant between that and the moment her vagina erupted with heat and moisture. She snapped.
'Sander! Mara! Whoever that is, stop this! I-Ah! I can't take it... Please, I'm begging! Please, please, please!' She shrieked, her voice shrill and rising as the length of her pussy was stimulated by the cold machine.
Light flooded in as the blindfold was removed. She blinked in the brightness, her eyes wide and desperate for release. Her fingers curled in the shackles, as if reaching for the grinning, naked form that appeared before her.
'Oh, I guess we broke you...' Mara said, sounding a little disappointed. 'You lose big, Amy Pond. How exciting!' She clapped her hands together brightly. 'Especially since it was a photo finish, Amy.' She giggled, pointing to her watch as it lay on the bed. The countdown on it, which Amy assumed Mara had set up before the game began, had only twenty-eight seconds left on the clock. Amy wept openly.
'Hell yeah!' Sander whooped. Amy sank limply against her restraints as the devices were turned off and the vibrator was removed from her body, glistening in a layer of her juices. She knew what was coming; she had lost the game, and she would pay for such a loss with her virgin ass.
'I'm sort of wondering whether we should leave the clamps on her, Mara...' Sander mused. 'Y'know keep her in line?'
Mara laughed, 'Oh, you and I, Sander? Same wavelength. Totally simpatico.'
'That's what I said a minute ago, and you said no,' Sander said blankly.
'If you keep bringing that up, I won't want to play with you anymore, lover boy. Shut your hole, and be patient. Anyway, I still like your idea. Let's leave them on her.'
