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2010-08-31
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Learning Her Lesson

Summary:

Amy is bored and acting like a brat...the Doctor teaches her a lesson. Or is it the other way around?

Notes:

Writing for the Doctor Who Eleven-era kinkmeme eleventy_kink as a fill for the prompt: "Amy acts like a brat, bugging the Doctor about how bored she is, why can't they ever do anything interesting, things like that. The Doctor can only take so much of this before he slaps. I'm imagining him giving her an over-the-knee spanking, then fucking her for all she's worth. Bonus points if Amy admits that she deliberately provoked him out of boredom or horniness or both."

Work Text:

SNAP SNAP SNAP

"DOOOC-TOR, pleeeaasse??"

SNAP SNAP

"Come on, you've been using that excuse for AGES! The TARDIS has to be fixed by now…"

Amy has been whinging like a child for the last day and a half, and the Doctor's patience is wearing thin. More than 900 years of existence have taught him the fortitude of a martyr and the serenity of a monk, but Amy's high-pitched whine and repeated snapping of his braces just might prove to be his ultimate undoing.

"I told you, Amy, the time rotors were overheating, and they'll need a few days' rest before they're in working order again…" He kept his head bent down over the console and did his best not to let on just how effective her tactics were at bringing him off-balance.

"But what am I supposed to do while you're fiddling around up here? I'm boooored!"

SNAP!

He spun on her quickly, eyes flashing. At first she jumped, surprised by his quick flurry of movement; then she smiled at him with a cat-like grin. She was getting her way, getting his attention, and that made him angrier still.

"Amy, if I were you, I would leave my sight, NOW, quickly as you can, or…"

"Or?" she asked with a smirk.

He hadn't thought of an "or"; he'd never really had to think of an "or"! There were few beings in this or any galaxy willing to stick around and find out what his "or" might turn out to be.

For a moment he blustered, tripping over his words. "I just can't believe you! I take you with me on magical adventures, whisk you away to live dreams untold, and you expect to be entertained every minute of every day. Well, you can't be! The TARDIS needs time to repair, and your whinging won't change that. Now stop pulling at my sleeves, stop snapping my braces, and STOP acting like a child!"

If anything, his speech only made her smile more smugly. "Ooorrrr…? What, Doctor?" She arched an eyebrow and reached out to grab his braces for one last…

SNAP!

The Doctor's self-control stretched and snapped along with his braces; he could feel the anger ripple through him like a shockwave. In one swift motion, he grabbed hold of Amy's wrist and began dragging her with him behind the console desk.

"Ow! Ooh, Doctor, what are you doing?" Amy's voice read shock and surprise, but there was still the undertone of amusement behind her words.

"If you're going to act like a child," the Doctor responded calmly, "then I'm going to have to treat you like one."

"Aww, whatcha gonna do? Give me a spanking?" Her voice was dripping with mockery.

The look he gave her over his shoulder was all the answer she needed. He was pleased to see her pale cheeks flush red and her green eyes widen. "Oh, please! You are not going to spank…"

Her words were cut off when the Doctor reached his destination, a tall captain's chair in front of the video monitor. He sat down abruptly, pulling her down with him by the wrist. He used one hand between her shoulder blades to press her forward so that she lay across his lap; the chair was tall enough that her feet still reached the floor. He didn't need to subdue her; she didn't fight him. Instead, she shot him a look of amusement over her shoulder. "Oh, Doctor!" she teased.

It was the last little spark of animus he needed to go through with this. With one hand still planted firmly on her back, he raised the other above his head and brought it down on Amy's rear with a resounding thwack!

Time seemed to slow down and pause as he looked down at Amy, savoring the sting of his palm with a guilty pleasure. He'd never spanked a companion before…perhaps he'd gone too far…

Amy looked up at him with pupils dilated to mirror-black pools. She pursed her lovely pink lips together in a sultry pantomime of a little girl's pout. "Is that all, Doctor?" she whined, "I've been such a bad girl…"

A flash of heat ran through the Doctor's body, pulling blood from his extremities to pool at his groin. He felt a light buzzing in his head as he ran his hand idly over the back of Amy's short denim skirt; he'd started this little game, and it seemed Amy was determined to finish it.

She squirmed in his lap, brushing ever so gently against his rapidly hardening cock. Once again, he raised his hand and brought it crashing down over her ass. SMACK! "Hold still!" he chided; "I'm not done with you yet."

Amy sighed when he reached his hand up under her skirt, testing the layers of fabric that stood in his way. The tights would have to go, as would the skirt. The skirt he hiked up over her bum, bunched around her waist; the tights he yanked down to her knees. All that covered her creamy pale buttocks now were a pair of pink cotton knickers. Those could stay for now.

He gave her rear a couple firm, light taps, as she sighed and giggled below him. Then he drew his hand up shoulder-height and delivered another loud smack to her behind. Her head jerked back with the force and suddenness of the blow; the look she gave him over her shoulder was pure desire.

He brought his palm down again, this time on the other cheek. Bright red handprints were forming on her smooth white skin, and the Doctor paused to admire them before delivering another slap to her rear. Her skin was starting to heat up; he pulled her knickers down so he could warm her up properly.

One after the other, he doled out smack after smack to her behind, each time landing the palm of his hand on a fresh, new patch of skin. Amy was red from below the small of her back down to the bottom of her thighs.

Each blow drew from her a moan or a cry. "Oh…OH! God! Please! YES!" She had her face turned to the floor now and her eyes scrunched tight; her bottom lip was pinched between her teeth.

The Doctor's hand was burning hot as Amy's rear, a numbing tingle spreading up from his palm through his arm and into his shoulder. The pain was nothing compared to the screaming ache of his groin. Every flinch and gasp from Amy in his lap made her rub against his throbbing erection. And the noises she was making… He started to experiment, noting how the placement of his slaps changed the pitch and tone of Amy's cries.

He delivered one final slap, and then set his hands to rubbing gently over her poor, abused bottom. He blew cool air against her heated behind, soothing the angry red welts. When his fingers reached her upper thighs he found her wet and dripping.
Flushed and panting, she looked up at him with shining, tear-filled eyes: "Is that it, Doctor? I don't know if I've learned my lesson yet…" She punctuated her remark with a roll of her hips against his groin that had him straining to maintain control.

"Amy Pond," he mused, "whatever am I going to do with you?" He gave a reddened ass cheek one firm pinch. "Up you get!" he announced, rising from the chair and pushing her up with him.

Her skirt was still bunched around her waist, and her tights and knickers were wrapped around her knees. The Doctor put one arm around her waist to steady her and crushed his mouth to hers. As he devoured her mouth with hungry kisses, he maneuvered the two of them backward toward the console, holding Amy up as she tripped over her tangled clothes.

They reached the console desk, and he pressed himself up against her, grinding his erection into her naked thigh. Amy gasped and reached for his crotch, pawing eagerly at the front of his trousers and trying to grab for the zip. The Doctor growled in response and pressed his face into her neck, nipping at her collarbone and pressing harder against her; Amy hissed as her sore backside ground into the TARDIS controls.

"Oh my," he crooned, "is Amy sore? Let Doctor have a look…" He took hold of her arm and used it to turn her around gently; he guided her hands to the console so she was leaning over it, ass sticking out behind her. Long, slender fingers ran tenderly over the hot red marks on her bottom; Amy moaned in response.

"Shall I make it better?" he asked, grinding his erection slowly against her rear.

"Yes, Doctor, please! Make it all better…" Amy moaned, pushing back against him.

The Doctor unzipped quickly and grabbed hold of his cock; he pressed the head up against Amy's warm, wet slit. Lazily, he dragged it up down, lubricating himself in her juices.

Amy made little desperate noises as he teased her with his prick. "Please, Doctor…"

"Well, since you asked so nicely…" He slid into her slowly, guiding himself in one inch at a time. Amy arched her back and tried to push her hips backwards, but the Doctor stopped her with a firm hand on her rear. "Ah ah ah!" he scolded, pressing her back against the console. When she was still again, he concentrated on slowly pushing the rest of his cock inside her.

He was in to the hilt, enjoying the feel of her muscles clamping around him. He rubbed a hand tenderly across her ass, watching the skin turn from red to white and back again. Then he gently grabbed a handful of cheek and began pulling himself out of her, maddeningly slow. When he had pulled out all but the head of his cock, he squeezed the tender flesh in the palm of his hand and slammed back into her, savoring Amy's gasp of mingled pleasure and pain.

No longer able to keep up this slow game torture, he began thrusting against her with a strong and steady rhythm. His hips were slapping up against her much the same way his hand had just moments ago. Each stroke tore from Amy a little moan of agony and ecstasy; she clutched at the console desk in front of her, leaning heavily on it for balance. Dimly, the Doctor was aware that perhaps the TARDIS controls were best not struck at randomly.

Oh well; there was nothing too important directly in front of her. At least, not anything that would cause imminent death or dismemberment.

Now was not the time for thinking anyway, as he had Amy Pond half-naked and panting, her knickers and tights wrapped around her ankles. He reached a hand around to push between her legs. His fingers sought out the swollen nub of her clitoris and began circling round it roughly. In seconds she's crying out; he can feel the muscles of her inner walls clench around him.

"Oh, Doctor; oh yes!" The top half of her body goes limp; she lays her cheek down awfully close to the trans-dimensional time stabilizer control.

The Doctor wonders briefly if the orgasm he's chasing is worth crash-landing in an alternate universe version of the Pre-Cambrian era, but when he's this close he has to conclude that it is. As it is, he doesn't have time to reason properly, as one last thrust sends him crashing over the edge. He groans and jerks his hips once, twice more before half-collapsing on top of Amy.

At the last second, he remembers the controls, and drags the two of them aside three small, but crucial, inches.

For a moment, they just breathe together: giant lungfuls of ragged, desperate breaths. Then they sink together down to the floor; the Doctor wraps Amy in his arms.

Planting a gentle kiss on the top of her head, he asks: "So, Amy: have you learned your lesson?"

"Oh, most definitely! Lesson learned: don't bother with seduction; just go straight for the braces…"