TARDIS Trouble, Part 6: Crush

"Bloody hell," the Whore murmurs as the three blondes line up behind Zoe, staring at the brunette's rapidly-bobbing head with undisguised hunger, "didn't expect him to still be going this strongly after seeing her work him over earlier." The Doctor smirks at her; or at least, I think she does, since it's a little hard to keep my focus on their expressions while Zoe's trying to suck me inside out. She and the Whore share a look, then cock their hips in opposite directions and rest a hand on them while the other kneads one of their tits, forming a perfect mirror of each other's poses.

“If you think that's impressive," she replies, the TARDIS's translator filtering out the lisp she's developing as her spiking lust causes her concentration to slip and her lips to swell slightly, "I ought to show you the footage of him pounding my arse for the first time. I thought my legs'd never work right again!" The Whore's eyebrows rise slightly in disbelief, before both of their expressions shift into blank-eyed, 'o'-mouthed masks of pure vapidity as a pink-and-purple sheen flashes across their eyes. "Really now," D-13 asks, dragging out the first two words before her tone suddenly becomes as casual as if she were asking if the Doctor wanted a cup of coffee, "and just how good did it feel to get your slutty butt stuffed?"

"So good," the Doctor moans, her lips rapidly swelling into the built-for-sucking cockpillows that Sandi originally turned them into.

"I bet it did," D-13 agrees, "and with our brain able to parallel process so many different things, I bet you fantasise about doing it again constantly."

"Yessssss..." No surprise there besides the fact that she was able to move her lips slightly to respond, I've walked in on her in the shower enough times - often unintentionally, given how the TARDIS likes to rearrange its internals - since then to know exactly why she takes so long. The memories of watching her frantically rub her pussy and squirt like a broken faucet as she throws her ass back onto the dildo stuck to the wall of her shower are so vivid, in fact, that just a flash of them is enough for me to sling a rope of cum straight down Zoe's rippling, squeezing throat. By the time my vision clears, both unconverted versions of the Doctor seem to have come back from their unexpected, but in hindsight totally normal, trance states to something more familiar - namely, running their hands over their bodies and posing to emphasise their curves while they eye me like I'm just a piece of meat. The Doctor's never done it so blatantly before, but I can't think of any reason why she wouldn't do it now, so it's probably nothing to worry about.

"Hey John," the Doctor asks, "does this Cyberslut make my tits look small?" Before I can answer her, Zoe's throat ripples and drags another spurt of cum out of me, turning my words into a helpless groan of pleasure. "I'll take that as a yes," she replies, a smirk on her steadily-shrinking lips, as all three cup and jiggle their chests for emphasis, "I guess I'd better do something about that, just in case you ever get bored of my arse."

"Speaking of your arse," the Whore chimes in, "let's see how we compare." All three turn in place, cocking their hips left and right as they show off the asses in question. "Well, that's interesting," she purrs as she and the Doctor press their hips against D-13's, sandwiching the Cyberslut's juicy bubble butt between their own, "I think we might actually have her beat." The three of them look over their shoulders at me and lick their lips as their arms reach out and criss-cross to rest on each other's hips in a three-way embrace, before the heels of their boots begin to extend and retract to simulate them bouncing on the balls of their feet, the ever-so-slightly desynced rise and fall of their asses dragging my eyes from side to side as I try to follow them all at once. The Doctor and the Whore bring their free hands up to grope their own chests, while their expressions shift from teasing to intrigued, and it doesn't take long for me to figure out why as D-13's ass slowly swells from its already-impressive size to match her counterparts.

Now that they're identical, the rising, falling, jiggling motion of their asses is... almost hypnotic. If it were anyone else, anywhere else, at any time else I'd probably be getting a bit paranoid about their intentions, but it's perfectly normal for me to be mesmerised by the blondes' big, bouncy bubble butts. Slowly, my awareness of anything else - the sloppy, lip-smacking sounds of the two Aphasias making out, the muffled slurping of Zoe's merciless attempt to suck me dry, the warped and twisted bedroom around me, awareness of my body outside of my throat-wrapped cock and aching balls - starts to slip away as my attention hones in on the pattern being woven by the motion of their wobbling cheeks. My field of views slowly narrows down further, blurring and distorting until D-13's colossal caboose is forcing its 'sisters' out of my thoughts just like it's forcing them out of my rapidly-shrinking field of view. A soft buzzing noise fills both ears as I track it up and down, uncaring of how disturbing I'd find this sensory near-deprivation otherwise and unaware of the Doctor and the Whore carefully lining themselves up on either side of me until they push their hips back and SLAM their asses together around my head like a silky, padded car crusher.

For a moment that seems to drag on forever, my entire world is nothing but ASS, smothered by four globes of plush, juicy fat layered over iron-hard muscle, before they pull apart just long enough for me to register the sight of D-13’s enormous, bouncing booty and then SLAM their asses together again. SLAM. SLAM. SLAM. My brain bounces around the inside of my skull, shaken loose from the trance that the three of them put me into earlier and then looser still. SLAM. SLAM. SLAM. Stray syllables and wavering images of D-13’s rear bombard me in the fleeting moments when my perception isn’t being consumed by ASS, and I grab the reassuring fact that being smothered, pressed and generally oppressed by the Doctor’s overwhelming wobblewagon is perfectly normal like it’s a lifeline. SLAM. SLAM. SLAM. SLAM. SLAM. SLAM.

Eventually, the pair - and Zoe too, this time - pull back one last time and leave me a disoriented, spluttering mess lying on the bed. "Fuh.. Fucking h-hell," I gasp, looking up at the two squatting Time Ladies' rears swaying back and forth over my prone form. On instinct, I reach up and give them both a hard spank, pink and purple sparks flashing around their eyes as they glaze over, before refocusing and blinking rapidly like they're seeing the room for the first time. D-13 and Zoe have abandoned the three of us to watch Aphasia and Aphasia Two eat each other out like it's all that's keeping either of them alive, the blonde's ass having shrunk back down to a regular, Doctor-grade dumptruck that I can barely stand to look at without slinging precum like a geyser.

"Hold on, John," the Doctor reassures me, reaching down and doing something to my balls that makes my head swim and body go numb for a moment. "There we go," she grins, as she and the Whore stand up and hop down from the bed with a sharp clap of their cheeks and a big enough bounce of their chests it's a miracle they don't have any wardrobe malfunctions, "that should keep you from losing it over that sexy, sexy bitch for a while. Sorry I can't do anything about your cock, guess you'll just have to deal with the big, fat, juicy-" Judging by the way she seems to space out as she speaks those three words, she's not sorry at all, but I appreciate my newfound ability to sit up and start cramming my inconvenient hard-on back into my pants all the same. "-bulge somehow." The looks she shoots me when she thinks I'm not looking - and that the Whore shoots me when she realises I am - are a pretty good indicator of how they'd both like to deal with it.

Not that the Doctor's going to admit it, of course.

“Nice work, girls,” D-13 remarks loudly, a handful of an Aphasia’s hair in each hand, “you’re going to make great Cybersluts.” The pair preen at the praise, before gasping as the cyborg’s gloves leech two small dollops of nanites into their hair that roll down the strands, around their necks and onto their chests, where they quickly begin devouring their ‘brat chic’ outfits and replacing the battered sneakers, too-short shorts and too-tight crop tops with copies of each one’s ‘mother’s’ costume. Aphasia gropes her tits experimentally in her reverse bunny suit and frowns when her -presumably rock-hard, given her initial expression - nipples fail to show through the pasties covering them, while Aphasia Two tests the limits of her Virgin Destroyer ensemble with a variety of suggestive but uncomfortable-looking poses.

“We must return to Cyberslut territory for processing,” Zoe announces abruptly, looking over at her blonde counterpart. “Candidates this well-suited for conversion will greatly increase our knowledge of Time Lord biology and technology-”

“And you want to suck our friend off some more, yeah, yeah,” D-13 finishes with a smirk that, I notice for the first time, doesn’t reach her eyes. “Alright, you heard Planner ZH,” she snaps, addressing all five of us, “fall in line and start marching!” The march in question is more of a hip-swinging catwalk strut, but luckily nobody minds that I don’t try to match the Cybersluts’ gait like the girls do, or that I drop to the back of the group as we exit the room and re-enter a corridor blackened by electrical burns, empty of any occupants and rather more coral-ish than when we left it…