Cuckoo's Nest

"Right," the Doctor chirps, her previous enthusiasm now restored, "I wasn't sure what this was meant to be for at first-" She makes a sweeping gesture at the bedroom-cum-film set she's just led me into "-but since the TARDIS must have made it for you I decided to do a bit of digging into your hobbies. So, if you want to grab a girl - any girl at all - and pound her into a gaped, broken mess, I won't mind in the slightest as long as you keep any stains out of the carpets." I think I detect a hint of begging in the part emphasising who I'd be restarting my porn career with, but maybe it's all in my head - the tone, I mean, not the fact that she's **** for my dick. The set is pretty well-appointed and the equipment looks pretty space-age to my eyes, so I assume that the TARDIS knows its business when it comes to porn production and gesture for the Doctor to lead on to the next stop on the tour - though not before making a mental note to ask the TARDIS for recordings of the Doctor doing her 'research'.

The rest of the tour is... surprisingly ordinary, really. Oh, sure, the location and construction are plenty exotic, but a library made from coral that sings - or rather, that moans softly in the Doctor's voice - as the life support system blows air around it it still a library at the end of the day. And, as the Doctor's quick to remind me, I'll be living here for the foreseeable future - so there's no need to soak up the entire experience in one sitting. Similarly, the gym where all of the TV screens are playing fitness instruction videos presented by familiar-looking blonde women is still a gym, and the five other swimming pools are still swimming pools. I truth, both the Doctor and I are a little distracted from the tour, and when I broach the matter she's quick to admit it and hurry us back to the console room.

I swear, I will never get tired of being behind her when she's jogging.

The mirror in the console room is old, ornate and rather too dignified to witness what's about to happen. It's not that the Doctor has much of a clue what's about to happen, though, so the aesthetic choice can be forgiven. Cables run out from under the console to the metal clamps scattered over the mirror's brass frame, humming with power as the Doctor fiddles around on her hands and knees at the console ends. Her younger doppelganger stares hungrily at her ass, licking her lips hungrily and trying to restrain herself from trying to grab the Doctor's reflected rear end with both hands. Not that I can blame her, with the way the woman's arching her back and swinging her hips while she works.

Eventually she backs out from under the console and pulls herself to her feet, turning around and looking at the mirror. She reaches back to the lever on the console that seems to get pulled when she does anything with it, takes a deep breath and yanks it towards her. There's a feeling that I can only describe as 'being drunk' - by something, mind you, not on something - and, between one moment and the next, the console room lights flicker and the mirror vanishes from existence. The cables clatter to the ground around the feet of a generically-pretty young woman with pale hair, wearing battered sneakers, a pair of ragged-cut jean shorts tightly fitted to her bubble butt and a tight white t-shirt that clearly doesn't have a bra underneath it if the way it's stretched over her small breasts and prominent nipples is any indication.

The Doctor opens her mouth to say something but, before she can, the girl steps forward and blows a cloud of glittering green smoke in her face. The Doctor's expression shifts into one of helpless confusion as the wispy, billowing cloud forces its way into every orifice on her face, tainting her skin, lips and eyes a pale, washed-out green for a moment before coming right back out again. The girl closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in through her mouth and nose, the cloud disappearing into her as her features shift and sharpen. The 'family resemblance' to the Doctor grows clearer in the shape of her face and the lines of her body, her hair brightening into blondeness as a smirk tugs at her lips. The hem of her shorts rises even as her hips broaden and her ass fills out further, until they barely cover even half of her bubbly asscheeks, while her t-shirt shrinks until it's a crop top that bares her tight, narrow waist and barely covers her chest. If it weren't for the sheer thickness of her ass, she'd look every bit the quintessential bratty, barely-legal porn stepdaughter - although, unlike any of them, I could believe that she'd get wedged under a bed if she crawled under it.

The Doctor sways in place for a few seconds after the transformation finishes, then blinks away her vacant expression and shakes her head. "Sorry," she says haltingly, "I was just... What was I doing?" Her 'daughter' rolls her eyes and crosses her arms under her breasts, such as they are. "Stars, mum," she huffs in feigned exasperation, "can you maybe go five minutes without spacing out over the thought of a fat cock pounding your slutty bum?"

"Language," the Doctor snaps at her reflexively.

The girl just sticks her tongue out in response. "You're one to talk," she snaps back, "I can hear you screaming across decades when you're rubbing one out, never mind through the walls." She pops the button on her jean shorts and slips a hand down them. "Oooh... Oh, fuck..." she moans with exaggerated passion, clearly rubbing her pussy under the denim, "I'm such a slut, stuffing myself with dildos all night-" The Doctor's eye twitches, although whether she's being slandered by the mocking mimicry or just being called out, I can't say. "-because the man I want won't bend me over and take me! Oh, if only I was as freaky and nasty as my daughter, he'd already be gaping my fucking arse wide open! Oh! Oh, fuck! Fucking take me, Joh-" The Doctor steps forward and around the girl in one fluid motion, before bringing her hand down in a harsh slap on one of her half-covered asscheeks. "Shit," the girl gasps softly, before her mocking tone returns, "did I touch a n-" The Doctor brings her hand down on the other cheek with another loud clap of flesh on flesh.

This time, the girl's breath hitches and she doesn't manage to get another word out before the Doctor's next two strikes, which leave her moaning softly in pain and pleasure. The Doctor pulls the girl's hand out of her shorts and stuffs it into her own mouth, before bending her over the TARDIS console. "Aphasia Dubraxine," the Doctor hisses, tugging the girl- Aphasia's shorts down to reveal that she isn't wearing any underwear, "you will not-" She spanks her hard on one of her firm, meaty asscheeks, making it ripple and redden visibly with the **** of the blow. "-spy-" She spanks the other, with the same result. "-on-" SLAP "-your-" SLAP "-mother!" SLAP

"Mmmm..." Aphasia moans happily, wiggling her hips from side to side, "you're just jealous..." The Doctor licks her lips hesitantly as she raises her hand again, before I tap her on the shoulder and she spins around to face me. "You know she's only doing it because it gets a rise out of you," I ask her, as if this is a regular occurrence, "right?" She blushes furiously and nods, clearly not trusting herself to speak right now, before stepping aside to give me free access to her 'daughter'. Aphasia straightens up and tugs her shorts back up before opening her mouth to speak again, but I cup her chin with one hand and slip my thumb between her lips. The transferal of character traits seems to be working perfectly between her eagerness to bait a spanking and her reaction to this, because she's almost as receptive to my touch as the Doctor is.

"Now, Aphasia," I tell her calmly, "you shouldn't spy on your mother like that. I know that it's normal for the Doctor's daughters to be just as eager for sloppy lesbian **** as she is..." I watch the younger blonde shudder and her eyelids flutter as her new tastes settle into her mind. "...so stop spying on her when she's stuffing her asshole with beads and toys, and start helping her cum." The Doctor makes a vaguely mortified noise behind me as I comment on her masturbatory habits, which I ignore in favour of staring into Aphasia's half-lidded eyes as she continues to suck obediently on my thumb. "Now, I know you're normally a naughty, bratty slut because you love to get punished," I continue, not showing any reaction as Aphasia reaches down and starts to stroke my cock through my pants with both hands, "but I need you to do that for me."

She nods dazedly and I pull my hand away with a wet pop, before looking back and forth between her and the Doctor. "Good girl," I tell her, smirking as I catch a glimpse of the Doctor bristling in jealousy out of the corner of my eye, "now, go and kiss and make up like you normally do." I squeeze her ass as she walks up to the Doctor and throws her arms over the older blonde's shoulders, before planting a deep french kiss that the Doctor happily returns. They moan into each other's mouths, cheeks hollowing slightly as they start trying to leave the other a gasping mess by the end of the kiss, but neither has the patience to fight the other over it and they soon break the liplock. The Doctor quickly goes in for another one, but Aphasia shifts her head aside and starts planting kisses on her 'mother's' neck and down to her cleavage. I begin entering a request for recordings of the Doctor's 'research' into my hobbies on one of the console screens as Aphasia tears open the Doctor's jacket, sending buttons bouncing and skidding across the floor.