TARDIS Trouble, Part 3: Bonding

Thankfully, Aphasia and Aphasia Two's sudden, violent descent into a moaning, writhing two-woman pile on the floor stops the Doctor, the doppel-Doctor and me from descending into a loop of various disbelieving noises - I can practically see the remains of the incredulous 'what' that was building on the Doctor's lips, even if her concentration has slipped enough for them to be noticeably plumper than the new normal. "So," I remark from my position on the floor, "is this something that happens often?" The Doctor shakes her head as she reaches down to help me up, so rattled that she doesn't even try to indicate that I ought to grab her ass for a bit of extra leverage. "Other versions of me? Sometimes."

"Identical copies of me? Almost never," the doppel-Doctor finishes for her, looking her counterpart up and down with an inscrutable expression, "and it's normally capital-B Bad news when it does."

"Not quite identical," I say, patting myself down and sneaking a glance at the floor where I fell to make sure I didn't land on a patch of the gooey coral. "There's the name, for a start. I guess after hearing it enough times, calling yourself 'the Whore' instead of 'the Doctor' must have felt normal, right?" The newly-dubbed - from my point of view, anyway - Whore nods, eyeing the Doctor's lips with clear envy. "At least it'll be harder to get the pair of you mixed up than Aphasia and Aphasia down there," I continue, as the blondes in question continue to suck face. The Whore's gaze shifts at the reminder and she stares at the pair of them with far, far more visible interest than the Doctor; I suppose Aphasia Two's been able to sink her claws even deeper into her 'mother' than the version I'm familiar with. "So, is there a copy of me kicking around anywhere?"

The Whore takes a good look at me, predictably lingering a lot longer than is probably necessary on my crotch, before humming. "Nope," she replies, popping the 'p' for emphasis, "and I'd definitely remember a man like you." The Doctor rolls her eyes, as if she wasn't also laser-focused on it while her counterpart was too distracted to catch her at it. Still, this is... interesting, I suppose. Odd that everything about her and her Aphasia's so similar to the version I've been tweaking, but I suppose if multiverse theory's at least partly true then there really is a timeline out there where everything I change really was always normal. I wonder if there's a new one for every change, or if they only come into existence after something big enough? Knowing we're at least partially in a universe where I never broke the Doctor's brainwashing at Wakefield Manor isn't any help, given that we've thwarted at least two alien conquests of Earth and the associated knock-on effects since then...

"Hey," the Doctor asks, as she and the Whore both grope the bulge in my trousers, "anyone in there?" I shake off the minor existential crisis and swat them both lightly on the - identical, which at least indicates that things leading up to Aphasia Two getting out of her mirror were probably the same - ass. "So," I ask, as the Doctor licks her lips and moans softly at the still-novel sensations they fill her head with, "what happened to you and your Aphasia, Whore? Your TARDIS hit something like ours?" The scantier-clad blonde nods and gives my cock a light squeeze. "Honestly, we probably hit whatever this place is before you did," she replies, "because a couple of hours after we started exploring, we got rammed hard from behind by a couple of somethings - and not in the usual way. If one of them was you, and the other was this coral that's started blending into everything, then there's at least six places mashed up here."

"Alright," the Doctor agrees, "let's make a checklist - we've seen Wakefield, we've run into Drahvin-" The Whore grimaces for a second, clearly not having had confirmation of who at least one of the various aesthetics belongs to. "-and you two, there's whatever those tentacles belong to inside the coral, so that's five including us; you found any hospital-looking bits yet?" I allow my attention to drift a bit as the pair of them focus fully on the problem at hand, seeing that Aphasia and Aphasia Two are just about done with their... Honestly, I'm not sure, it might be anything from a dominance contest to an especially sloppy mind-meld - although I'm leaning towards the latter as I see that 'my' Aphasia is now also sporting a pair of rather prominent barbell piercings under her t-shirt.

"We might want to get moving, Mum," Aphasia tells the Doctor, as Aphasia Two points to me, then herself, then mimes stroking a rod with one hand, "'cause apparently there's-" Suddenly, a muffled flurry of at least three flavours of gunfire erupts on the other side of the coral door. "-Cybersluts around, and they're organised." The Doctor and the Whore both click their tongues in annoyance, then look at each other as if to say 'stop copying me'. "You know," the Doctor grumbles, slapping the Whore's hand away from my crotch and reluctantly pulling away herself, "I preferred it when I kept finding them hibernating; at least then I normally had an hour or two's head start to figure out how to stop them."

"You're telling me," the Whore agrees, "they're bad enough without having a plan more complex than 'wake an army up and then business as usual'."

In a double stroke of good luck, not only is the firefight not sounding like it'll abate any time soon as we leave, but the Whore and Aphasia Two actually have a target in mind as the Doctor seals up the way they came into the room behind us. The sight of her sonic screwdriver draws a snort of amusement from the Whore, whose own tool looks a little bigger, a lot sleeker and more rounded, and generally more amenable to being shoved somewhere delicate than the Doctor's 'jagged crystal chic' model, but she pointedly ignores it. "Right," the spandex-clad Time Lady announces, clapping her hands, "as long as nothing's been shunted around by you rear-ending us-" I quickly stick two fingers into the Doctor's mouth as she opens it, turning the rising noise of indignation into a muffled moan. "-then there should be an access port in one of these rooms - big black circle with a handle on it, in one of the sterile panel rooms, you can't miss it. And since you mentioned some kind of tentacle beast living in the coral portions of this place despite them no longer being continuous, then it might still be connected to the Cyberslut ship's systems."

"In which case the two of you can access them and find out what their orders are," I finish, looking back and forth between the - now significantly calmer about having her flying insulted - Doctor and her counterpart. The Whore shoots me a thumbs up and spins on the platform sole of one absurdly high-heeled shoe, strutting off towards the other side of this, um... well, whatever it used to be, it's some kind of modern art piece now if the weird coral growths and wood-metal sculpture sticking out of the walls are any indication. "Or your version of her will," Aphasia Two mutters, shooting a smirk at her 'sister', "and mine'll get distracted by such a massive cock - again." Aphasia just rolls her eyes, while both the Doctor and the Whore's postures stiffen slightly at the exchange. "Maybe we'll get lucky," she stage-murmurs back, "and he'll let one of us, y'know..." She forms a circle with her thumb and forefinger and sticks her tongue through it a couple of times. "...while the other's working on his balls."

"Aphasia," the Doctor gasps, she and her counterpart rounding on their 'daughters' so fast their asses would have clapped if they weren't crammed into her shorts so tightly, "that's absolutely filthy!" And, judging by the slight tremor in her voice, the sort of filthy the Doctor rather likes the sound of. "Hands against the wall, young lady," she continues, strutting over and spinning Aphasia around by her shoulders, "I know we're in a hurry, but that's no excuse for you to talk about tonguing John's arsehole while he fucks me- I mean, a version of me stupid!" Aphasia just grins and plants her palms firmly against the wall, wiggling her hips as she braces her feet and arches her back. "Little bit of a Freudian slip there, mum? Or," she looks back over her shoulder with an an expression of faux-concern as the Doctor yanks her shorts down so hard the button pops off, "are you so worked up you've forgotten who's wh- AH!"

The impact of the Doctor's first slap is hard enough to make Aphasia Two blink in surprise, clearly not used to seeing her own ass ripple quite like that. The Doctor doesn't let up either, raining open-handed blows down on the squirming, moaning brat. "Don't!" CRACK "Talk!" CRACK "Back!" CRACK "To!" CRACK "Your!" CRACK "Mother!" CRACK "Like!" CRACK "That!" CRACK Once she's over the initial shock, Aphasia Two's expression quickly shifts from quiet surprise to outright hunger, one hand reaching out to grope the Whore's chest - who must be thoroughly conditioned to accept that sort of treatment, given that she doesn't react save for a shudder of pleasure - while the other slips down the front of her own ragged-hemmed denim shorts as she stares at the Doctor's ass in hers.

"'scuse me," I say to the Whore as I step up on her other side and nudge her a little closer to Aphasia Two, before idly tracing a fingertip down the seam of her abs, "do you mind answering a question?" She turns her head to try and get both me and Aphasia's ongoing punishment in her field of view at the same time, then gasps softly as my hand slides down the front of her shorts, into her thong and then slips two fingers between her pussy lips. "Is it normal for you to be on the verge of cumming just from this?" Probably not my wisest move, given that if her pussy gets any tighter I might need to worry about broken fingers, but the low, hissing 'yes' that slithers out of her mouth in between deep, panting breaths is so worth it. "Huh, wouldn't have thought you had a hair trigger, but I guess if you're normally getting teased to the edge constantly then even this-" I slip a third finger inside of her, her folds clamping down as I give them short, sharp pumps. "-would make you cum in no time at all."

And cum she does. "Ooh... Oh, FUCK!" She grabs Aphasia Two and I for support as her legs quake, while her walls clamp down on my fingers hard enough that I can't move them and pulse around me. "Yes! F-Fuck yes!" I feel the sudden rush of pussy juice, ebbing and flowing in time with the pulsing of her cunt, as she squirts all over my hand - so much so, in fact, that the inside of each thick, muscular thigh is visibly glistening as they tremble. "Oh, oh wow," she grins, "those fingers are really somethiiiiIIIIIIIING!" This time, her knees buckle after just a few seconds of fingerblasting, her only sound a hoarse, drawn-out moan as she starts to squirt again. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck oh fuck ohfuckohfuckohFUCK!" I enjoy the wild-eyed look on her face as she comes down from the second orgasm, hair a little mussed and chest heaving. "I think... I think I might have to steal you, if that's al- mmph~" Hey eyes go from open wide to half-lidded as she sucks her own juices from my fingers; not as enthusiastically as the Doctor would have done with her new lips, but still eager.

By the time the Whore's done cleaning me up, holding my wrist with both hands as she laps up every drop, the Doctor's finishing of a quivering, red-cheeked Aphasia and tugging the younger blonde's shorts back up - the lack of button doesn't compromise their ability to stay up much with how tightly she's packed into them anyway. "Okay, that's that," the Doctor announces, looking a little flustered at the pleasure punishing her 'daughter' brings, "now as long as you girls behave, we should have this sorted in no time. Shall we get a move on?"