Fic: Strawberries and Submission (Hard 'R') Martha/Barty Jr
Title: Strawberries and Submission
Pairings: Barty Jr/Martha
Fandoms: Doctor Who/Harry Potter
Rating: Hard R
Summary: Martha takes control of Barty. PWP
Author's Notes: Not mine, only wish they were. Contains spoilers for the first four books and takes place sometime after the season 3 finale. Written for
sizeofthatthing's anon meme (and this is the only one I will admit to writing)
Warning: Contains D/s, and foodplay
Martha looked at the man, who looked so much like the Doctor, kneeling in front of her and smiled. "Listen," she growled, "you only refer to me as Mistress or else you won't get your reward. Is that clear?"
"Yes Mistress," the man, Barty, answered, adopting a submissive pose. The collar around his neck was a Gemini slave collar and it made the wearer totally submissive. Martha had picked it up in one of the markets there. That was before they had picked up the wayward wizard known as Barty, who insisted on not behaving himself and answered the Doctor back cheekily.
"Good," Martha said, patting Barty on the head as if he was a dog. "Stay there," she ordered as she walked backwards towards the sofa and sat down. "Come here. On your hands and knees," she snapped when Barty made to stand up. The young wizard crawled over to her slowly, stretching his body with every step like a cat. A tall leather clad cat in fact, whose long coat trailed on the floor behind him. "Take off your coat once you're at my feet," she growled, secretly delighting in the fact that this dangerous person, and she was under no illusions that he wasn't dangerous, was under her control. It would be like having the Master under her control, Martha realised, or even the Doctor. The physical likeness between Barty and the Doctor had given her an idea but she quickly suppressed it, saving it for later.
As he stopped in front of her, he shot her a puzzled look as he removed his coat. He really could believe that this was the same woman who had laughed in the Master's face as the twisted Time Lord was threatening to kill her. The Doctor had told him the whole story and it left him with a feeling of grudging respect for her. "Tell me," Martha demanded, as she grabbed his chin in her hand with one hand, tugged his head back with the other and forced him to look at her. "Do you like this? Do you like me treating you as an animal?" When he didn't answer straight away, she pulled harder on his hair, eliciting a loud moan from his lips. "Well?"
"Yes," Barty said softly, wondering what she was going to do next. "Yes, Mistress," he added hurriedly as her nails scraped across his scalp.
"Good," Martha purred, standing up and walking over to the fridge in the corner of the room. "You've been a good boy and you need a reward. Er, you don't have any food allergies, do you?" she asked, worried that it might put an end to her fun, as she looked in the fridge. Martha knew that Barty liked strawberries, having come in and caught him eating a bowl of the fruit with his fingers, letting the sweet juice drip down his hand, which he then cleaned up with his tongue, and there were some still in the fridge. "On your hands and knees," she snapped, as she shut the fridge door with a soft bang.
"No," Barty answered, obediently kneeling on all fours by the sofa. He frowned as Martha came over with a bowl of strawberries which she placed on the floor, but reached for the fruit. Martha smacked his hand away from the bowl. "No fingers," she scolded, kneeling behind him and holding his arms behind him in a surprisingly strong hold. "Use your mouth."
"But..."
"Do it."
He bent his head and delicately began eating out of the bowl. The strawberries were sweet and juicy and he could feel the juice going down his chin. The grip on his arms prevented him from wiping the juice off, but he ran his tongue around his lips getting as much stickiness off as he could reach.
Martha reached around his waist and cupped his hardness in her hand, coaxing a throaty growl from him, as he slowly licked the bowl clean. "Mmm," he purred, leaning into her touch.
"Lift your head," Martha ordered, letting go of him and moving to the sofa again. "Was that good?"
"Mmhmm. Could do with a little cream though," Barty answered, licking his lips.
"Take your shirt off," Martha ordered, raking her nails down his neck as an incentive. She grinned as Barty obeyed her and licked her lips as he removed his shirt. "On all fours," she ordered in a strict tone of voice, heading to the fridge again. "You said it needed cream," she said, coming back and sitting back down. "No cream, I'm afraid, but there was some custard," she said, drizzling a small amount of cool custard on his back, making him gasp in surprise as it hit his skin and pooled in the small of his back. "Now, don't move," she said, adding a bit more, "and don't spill a drop," she ordered, giving him a sharp smack on his behind, stinging even though he was still wearing trousers. He jumped but he didn't spill any of the custard. "Now, Barty, you were very rude to the Doctor earlier on," she commented, "and while he should be here to dole out the punishment, I'm afraid he had other things to do."
"So you're acting as his proxy?" Barty growled, flinching as she struck him again.
"Don't answer me back," Martha snapped, roughly grabbing his hair and forcing his head back. "You should be kissing his feet and thanking him for letting you stay. Hmm, in fact, next time you see him, that's what I want you to do."
"Kiss his feet..," Barty repeated, wondering exactly how the Doctor would react if he did do that. His arms were beginning to get tired but he maintained the position, wobbling slightly.
"Good boy," Martha purred. "You are in a sticky mess," she said as she leaned forward and licked the juice off his chin, tasting the mixture of strawberries and Barty's slightly salty skin. "Yum," she managed, licking the remaining juice off him. She noticed he was getting even more unsteady as he struggled to hold his position. "Don't spill a drop." She moved a hand down his back and absently doodled a pattern in the custard, spreading it over his back with a finger. She brought the finger up to her mouth and licked it slowly, before smacking him again. "Comfortable?" she asked, scratching him, causing him to squirm. "Better clean you up before that custard dries on you," she said, tugging his hair so he'd move into a position where she could reach his back and bent her head and set to work. Barty wriggled under her tongue as she cleaned his back, letting a guttural moan as her tongue skimmed over a sensitive spot.
When she had finished, she pulled back and slid a hand under him to cup his arousal, the bulge noticable in her hand. "You liked that, didn't you?" she asked, stroking him through the fabric of his trousers, maddeningly slowly. "Or do you want me to stop?"
"No, don't stop," he whimpered, wriggling under her hand to get better friction. "Please..," he begged, looking pleadingly at her with his brown eyes, so like the Doctor's but with a hint of madness behind them.
"I like it when you beg," Martha commented, moving her other hand to the skin just below his navel, and stroked the soft skin there, delighting in the growl that escaped his throat, a sound which travelled straight to her body in a burst of pleasure. "Sit up and face me," she commanded, her eyes roving over his body as he did as she asked, taking in the scattering of hair on his pale chest and the splash of freckles on his neck and shoulders. "I think I'll keep the collar on you. You're much more agreeable in this state," she said, as she unbuttoned her shirt. "And I do want to see you kiss the Doctor's feet."
"Yes, Mistress," Barty answered, admiring her body and licked his lips as she stood in front of him, clad in only her underwear. Her words, coupled with the fact that she was half dressed in front of him, made him harden even more, which he hadn't thought was even possible.
"Good," Martha said, pulling on the collar, forcing him to crawl towards her so it wouldn't chafe his skin. "Now instead of using that mouth of yours to answer back, why not put it to even better use?"
Pairings: Barty Jr/Martha
Fandoms: Doctor Who/Harry Potter
Rating: Hard R
Summary: Martha takes control of Barty. PWP
Author's Notes: Not mine, only wish they were. Contains spoilers for the first four books and takes place sometime after the season 3 finale. Written for
sizeofthatthing's anon meme (and this is the only one I will admit to writing)
Warning: Contains D/s, and foodplay
Martha looked at the man, who looked so much like the Doctor, kneeling in front of her and smiled. "Listen," she growled, "you only refer to me as Mistress or else you won't get your reward. Is that clear?"
"Yes Mistress," the man, Barty, answered, adopting a submissive pose. The collar around his neck was a Gemini slave collar and it made the wearer totally submissive. Martha had picked it up in one of the markets there. That was before they had picked up the wayward wizard known as Barty, who insisted on not behaving himself and answered the Doctor back cheekily.
"Good," Martha said, patting Barty on the head as if he was a dog. "Stay there," she ordered as she walked backwards towards the sofa and sat down. "Come here. On your hands and knees," she snapped when Barty made to stand up. The young wizard crawled over to her slowly, stretching his body with every step like a cat. A tall leather clad cat in fact, whose long coat trailed on the floor behind him. "Take off your coat once you're at my feet," she growled, secretly delighting in the fact that this dangerous person, and she was under no illusions that he wasn't dangerous, was under her control. It would be like having the Master under her control, Martha realised, or even the Doctor. The physical likeness between Barty and the Doctor had given her an idea but she quickly suppressed it, saving it for later.
As he stopped in front of her, he shot her a puzzled look as he removed his coat. He really could believe that this was the same woman who had laughed in the Master's face as the twisted Time Lord was threatening to kill her. The Doctor had told him the whole story and it left him with a feeling of grudging respect for her. "Tell me," Martha demanded, as she grabbed his chin in her hand with one hand, tugged his head back with the other and forced him to look at her. "Do you like this? Do you like me treating you as an animal?" When he didn't answer straight away, she pulled harder on his hair, eliciting a loud moan from his lips. "Well?"
"Yes," Barty said softly, wondering what she was going to do next. "Yes, Mistress," he added hurriedly as her nails scraped across his scalp.
"Good," Martha purred, standing up and walking over to the fridge in the corner of the room. "You've been a good boy and you need a reward. Er, you don't have any food allergies, do you?" she asked, worried that it might put an end to her fun, as she looked in the fridge. Martha knew that Barty liked strawberries, having come in and caught him eating a bowl of the fruit with his fingers, letting the sweet juice drip down his hand, which he then cleaned up with his tongue, and there were some still in the fridge. "On your hands and knees," she snapped, as she shut the fridge door with a soft bang.
"No," Barty answered, obediently kneeling on all fours by the sofa. He frowned as Martha came over with a bowl of strawberries which she placed on the floor, but reached for the fruit. Martha smacked his hand away from the bowl. "No fingers," she scolded, kneeling behind him and holding his arms behind him in a surprisingly strong hold. "Use your mouth."
"But..."
"Do it."
He bent his head and delicately began eating out of the bowl. The strawberries were sweet and juicy and he could feel the juice going down his chin. The grip on his arms prevented him from wiping the juice off, but he ran his tongue around his lips getting as much stickiness off as he could reach.
Martha reached around his waist and cupped his hardness in her hand, coaxing a throaty growl from him, as he slowly licked the bowl clean. "Mmm," he purred, leaning into her touch.
"Lift your head," Martha ordered, letting go of him and moving to the sofa again. "Was that good?"
"Mmhmm. Could do with a little cream though," Barty answered, licking his lips.
"Take your shirt off," Martha ordered, raking her nails down his neck as an incentive. She grinned as Barty obeyed her and licked her lips as he removed his shirt. "On all fours," she ordered in a strict tone of voice, heading to the fridge again. "You said it needed cream," she said, coming back and sitting back down. "No cream, I'm afraid, but there was some custard," she said, drizzling a small amount of cool custard on his back, making him gasp in surprise as it hit his skin and pooled in the small of his back. "Now, don't move," she said, adding a bit more, "and don't spill a drop," she ordered, giving him a sharp smack on his behind, stinging even though he was still wearing trousers. He jumped but he didn't spill any of the custard. "Now, Barty, you were very rude to the Doctor earlier on," she commented, "and while he should be here to dole out the punishment, I'm afraid he had other things to do."
"So you're acting as his proxy?" Barty growled, flinching as she struck him again.
"Don't answer me back," Martha snapped, roughly grabbing his hair and forcing his head back. "You should be kissing his feet and thanking him for letting you stay. Hmm, in fact, next time you see him, that's what I want you to do."
"Kiss his feet..," Barty repeated, wondering exactly how the Doctor would react if he did do that. His arms were beginning to get tired but he maintained the position, wobbling slightly.
"Good boy," Martha purred. "You are in a sticky mess," she said as she leaned forward and licked the juice off his chin, tasting the mixture of strawberries and Barty's slightly salty skin. "Yum," she managed, licking the remaining juice off him. She noticed he was getting even more unsteady as he struggled to hold his position. "Don't spill a drop." She moved a hand down his back and absently doodled a pattern in the custard, spreading it over his back with a finger. She brought the finger up to her mouth and licked it slowly, before smacking him again. "Comfortable?" she asked, scratching him, causing him to squirm. "Better clean you up before that custard dries on you," she said, tugging his hair so he'd move into a position where she could reach his back and bent her head and set to work. Barty wriggled under her tongue as she cleaned his back, letting a guttural moan as her tongue skimmed over a sensitive spot.
When she had finished, she pulled back and slid a hand under him to cup his arousal, the bulge noticable in her hand. "You liked that, didn't you?" she asked, stroking him through the fabric of his trousers, maddeningly slowly. "Or do you want me to stop?"
"No, don't stop," he whimpered, wriggling under her hand to get better friction. "Please..," he begged, looking pleadingly at her with his brown eyes, so like the Doctor's but with a hint of madness behind them.
"I like it when you beg," Martha commented, moving her other hand to the skin just below his navel, and stroked the soft skin there, delighting in the growl that escaped his throat, a sound which travelled straight to her body in a burst of pleasure. "Sit up and face me," she commanded, her eyes roving over his body as he did as she asked, taking in the scattering of hair on his pale chest and the splash of freckles on his neck and shoulders. "I think I'll keep the collar on you. You're much more agreeable in this state," she said, as she unbuttoned her shirt. "And I do want to see you kiss the Doctor's feet."
"Yes, Mistress," Barty answered, admiring her body and licked his lips as she stood in front of him, clad in only her underwear. Her words, coupled with the fact that she was half dressed in front of him, made him harden even more, which he hadn't thought was even possible.
"Good," Martha said, pulling on the collar, forcing him to crawl towards her so it wouldn't chafe his skin. "Now instead of using that mouth of yours to answer back, why not put it to even better use?"