Clara Oswald: Into the Vortex (An Erotic Doctor Who Fantasia – Part One)

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Clara Oswald: Into the Vortex (An Erotic Doctor Who Fantasia – Part One)

The central unit of the TARDIS’ slowly rose and fell with a dynamic, rhythmic whirr, propelling the mysterious craft forever onward, to continue its fantastic journey through space and time, while Clara lay dreaming,naked, in bed. A strange hand lovingly caressed the console, clicking buttons, pulling levers and twisting dials until the soft whir became a deafening roar and the motions of the main pillar increased in fury and vigour until the control room was awash with movement and noise; a deafening alarm, then a crash followed by an uncanny silence. And through it Clara slept on; and Clara dreamed on.

Clara dreamed of many things that terrified her; she dreamed of the terrible monsters she’d unluckily encountered, the single-minded Cybermen, the mechanical killers, the Daleks and the chillingly fearsome Ice Warriors. As the dial turned on the console and the temperature soared dangerously in the control room, Clara’s dreams slowly shifted from fear into an altogether different realm; Clara was experiencing strange dreams that terrified her and then aroused her; Clara dreamed of the Doctor, and of sex. The mysterious figure operating the dials chuckled to itself and exited, satisfied that a job had been well done. The TARDIS went spinning back through time. Or was it forward? Or perhaps a combination of the two. Either way, a cryptic alien message on the display screen flashed with urgency. Roughly translated to English, it read “next stop,
oblivion.”

“Next stop, oblivion,” came a sweet but worried snarl from Clara’s chapped, sleeping lips. The TARDIS had jerked from side to side and the jolt appeared to startle her into action. Her eyes flashed open and she sat bolt upright in bed, throwing a blanket aside as she did so. Any observer could tell that she wasn’t actually awake since her face clearly had the vacant, morbid expression of a somnambulist. The next time she spoke was markedly different; soft, gentle and enticingly sexual.  The voice of quiet seduction. ‘Oh Doctor, you saved me.’ As she spoke a silk sheet that clung tightly to her skin slid gently away exposing her astonishing figure to the electric illuminations of her private chamber. “Doctor, you saved me,” she breathed. “You’re a wonderful, wonderful man. I want you. Take me Doctor, let me reward you, Let me give you what I know you
crave.”

Inner heat and tension rising fast, the TARDIS froze in time, span around quickly, and then abruptly exploded. It then lurched forwards in time, stopped and disintegrated once again before being propelled backwards in time only to be rend asunder for a third time, then a forth, a fifth, a sixth and so on, over and over caught in an infinite and devastating time loop. Clara, oblivious to the apparent mathematically impossible events taking place around her, continued to dream an unabashedly erotic dream. The electric light flickered once again, illuminating her soft skin, the tight curve of her breast, and every desirable inch of her unworried nudity. The illumination picked out the sweat of the heat on her skin, the goose-bumps covering her flesh, the gentle tremors of her aroused and shaking form. The illuminations looked dispassionately on as Clara’s uncontrolled, unawake hands, uncertainly explored the subtle contours of her body, slowly touching, caressing and enjoying every inch of her unaware, but vulnerable form. As the ship exploded again and again Clara’s hands slid excitedly across her breasts and dainty, firming nipples; they slid down her stomach, stroking and playing as they went lower still until eventually resting on her wet cunt, and a finger entered into that playful private vortex. As it gently slipped deeper and deeper inside Clara managed to moaned again out loud, “Doctor, you shouldn’t put that in there… oh! Yes Doctor, that’s one hell of a sonic … OH! OH!”

BOOM!

A further explosion occurred, and Clara awoke and fell, unsatisfied, to the floor. A further explosion and it all ended as the TARDIS flew itself out of the deadly infinite time loop and into a dimensional vortex of unknown worlds and desires; into a vortex where literally anything might happen; where Clara might encounter the whole of space and time … and memory. Clara – the impossible girl – was about to experience the impossible.

Beautiful Secrets

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(Note. A really light flash fiction I wrote today as a break from the piece I’m working on properly. This was inspired by someone saying to me that male masturbation wasn’t beautiful. I think that is is. Ended up being a little more comic, but that’s OK)

He was so beautiful.

He didn’t see me hiding away in the dark deep of the shadows. He didn’t know that I was there and he never could. He must never know. That I cherished his beauty was my deepest, darkest secret and it cloaked me with shame. My voyeuristic love of watching from a distance as he stroked his cock to climax swallowed me up in self loathing, but I was compelled to do it, and could no more resist the urge to hide myself away and watch his private performance than I could refuse to eat or drink.

He didn’t know that I knew his secret. I could sense the pangs of guilt that stole up on him as he tried so hard not to idly browse to the inevitable dirty websites; they were, afterall the reason he came here alone. If she knew he was sure that his girlfriend would leave him, his parents, he thought, would loathe him, his friends would tease him, his Church ostracise him. He slipped away in secret because he was compelled to, as I was compelled to cloud myself in guilt and watch.

Is it such a sin to bathe in the seas of such a beautiful act?

Guilt faded to resignation, then fired into lust. And as they always did, his eyes and attentions quickly turned away from the illicit pleasures onscreen and fixed themselves firmly onto his own. As I always did, I gaped on in wonder and  watched him undress, a patient, deliberate act that allowed him to savour every second of a moment that might not happen again for another week or two. And I savoured it even more for that. His top came off first, revealing such a glorious expanse of chest, muscle and ripple that looked almost out of place beside his delicately formed feminine features. I sighed as I longed to run my fingers across it and down its slender naked glory, imagining that it was I who skilfully unbuttoned the jeans that were now sensually siding over his perfectly round ass and falling to the floor. Like all men – like myself – he couldn’t keep his eyes from the main prize long, and as I marvelled at the huge bulge I could see stretching its way through his Calvin Kleins, he reached a hand inside and slowly started to fiddle and play with it – as all men do; I deeply regretted that I couldn’t step out from the shadow of my hiding place and help relieve the gigantic tension that had firmly mounted itself in full view..

As he slipped off his underpants and lay back on his bed, thick hard cock held tightly in hand, he rubbed himself off to an intensely satisfying conclusion and it was beautiful.The beautiful twinks came for his pleasure and he had to cum too. It didn’t take him long, a tight grip and a few swift strokes. He cupped his balls and thrust his cock repeatedly into his palm; he jerked and moaned and grunted and as he pleasured his penis the rest of his body writhed wildly, naked and sweating on the sheets. It didn’t take long for hot sticky jet to stream pleasantly from him and cover his chest in a lovely ocean spray of cum. It was my favourite part of the show and I couldn’t persuade myself not to reach down and touch myself as well; a terrible mistake, since on slipping a hand into my trousers my already blisteringly hard cock throbbed in accidental pleasure, and it peaked immediately, squirting streams of goo down the head of my cock, into my pants and over my hand. I couldn’t contain my appreciation for the show vocally either and I squeaked loudly as I shuddered; too late I realised that he’d heard and he started, looking across curiously in my direction.

Feeling drained, sticky and pathetic I was struck by a sudden panic. His beauty had led to this, my secret was to be found out.

He stood up, frightened too, fresh cum glistening on his chest, dripping silently down his still erect shaft and gently onto the floor. He looked cautiously in my direction and I froze, trying not to whimper. Suddenly, without warning, a girl’s voice spoke with authority and sexiness. “That was quite a show. I’m glad I had a ringside seat.”

“Oh my God!” He raced to shut off the PC a reflex action but there was really no point. All had been voyeured, secrets had already been stolen.

“This gets you off does it, lover? How very interesting.” His look of fright didn’t diminish, but her dress dropped briskly to the floor and she strode confidently in her lingerie towards him. “Looks like you need some help with this mess you’ve made.” He thought momentarily that he was off the hook for his actions and had missed what in hindsight was the obvious part of her performance. She glanced across mischievously to the dark place in which I hid and beckoned me towards the light.

“I think all three of us have secrets, don’t we? Come on boys, let’s have some fun together.”

We both looked at her. She was beautiful. She sat on the edge of the bed with a playful look and began to touch herself. Our dark dissipated and our cocks grew monstrously hard.