Scarves and Other Playthings
Title: Scarves and Other Playthings
Author: Kathryne (tellitslant)
Pairing: Four/Sarah Jane
Rating: NC-17
Sarah flopped into a chair, letting out a small grunt as she landed slightly too hard on bruised portions of her anatomy. "It never is boring with you, is it, Doctor," she said, wiggling around and trying to find a comfortable position. "I've been shot at, knocked out, hypnotised - and tied up I don't know how many times! I'm starting to think I'll end up with permanent rope burns." She massaged her wrists tenderly, glancing up to see if the Doctor was actually paying any attention to her complaints.
For a change, he was; in fact, he was studying her quite closely, and the thoughtful look on his face was slightly disconcerting. "You know, you're right," he said slowly.
"Well, of course I'm right," Sarah shot back. "You think I don't know what's been happening to me?"
"No, no, of course. I mean, you do seem to keep getting taken prisoner, don't you. Maybe it's about time we started using that to our advantage." He tossed his hat at the TARDIS console, neatly ringing it on one of the levers, and pulled his scarf off with a flourish. "It's been some time since I visited with Houdini," he mused under his breath, "but I'm sure I haven't forgotten anything he taught me."
He crossed to Sarah and knelt in front of her with a bit of a grin on his face. "Now, Sarah." He held up the scarf and pulled it taut. "Give me your hands."
Instinctively, Sarah shoved her hands behind her and sat on them. "Wait, now what's the idea here?" she asked warily. She had learned the hard way not to give in to the Doctor's impulses until she understood them properly.
"Why, Sarah! Don't you trust me?" The Doctor looked slightly hurt. "I'm just going to show you a few of the tricks I've learned so you can escape next time you get captured - if there is a next time, of course, which I'm sure there won't be," he corrected himself hastily. "But I can't very well show you unless I tie you up. Come on, then." And he held the scarf up again.
Sarah swallowed. The idea of being tied up made her nervous - especially as often as it had been happening in their travels - but she couldn't deny that being able to escape when someone less friendly restrained her did have its appeal.
"You can't just... demonstrate?" she tried without much hope.
The Doctor shook his head vehemently. "Certainly not," he declared. "You have to do it yourself to know if you can. Now, if you won't give me your hands..."
Before Sarah could react, he slipped the scarf around one of her ankles and tied her to the chair leg. "Hey!" she protested, but she couldn't get out of his grip, and he calmly secured the other ankle in the same way.
"Oh, come on, Doctor," Sarah wheedled, leaning over to try at the knots. The Doctor took the opportunity to grab her wrists and wrap the scarf around and between them. She gave up with a sigh and sank back against the seat, letting him wind the scarf around her waist and secure it behind the chair.
"Well then!" The Doctor sat back on his heels, satisfied with his work. "Let's see you try and get out of that, and I'll tell you what you're doing wrong."
Sarah gave him as intimidating a glare as she could manage, given that she was tied to a chair by a multicoloured scarf.
"No rush," the Doctor said placidly. "I'll wait."
**
Two hours later, Sarah was thoroughly sick of the doctor's scarf, not to mention the Doctor himself. She had to admit, though, that she was becoming quite adept at slipping out of most of the bonds he tied, and it had been extremely gratifying to discover that she was flexible enough to slip her bound hands from behind her back to in front of her- something the Doctor couldn't do! Only one technique was still giving her serious trouble.
"No - no, Sarah, not like that," the Doctor said, exasperated. "You've got to wrap a loop of rope around your thumb and then hide it between your hands. Don't try and take too much or whoever's tying you up will notice, and then where will you be? You just need enough to give you a bit of wiggle room. Now, let's try that again." He untied Sarah's hands; she snatched them away and folded her arms across her chest obstinately.
"I don't think so, Doctor," she said with a mutinous glare. "I think it's your turn. Why don't you show me how you do this trick you're so keen on, hm?"
The Doctor sighed. "Well, all right," he said, "I'll show you once. Just so you can see what it looks like when it's done right." He tossed the scarf to Sarah and sat back on the floor nonchalantly.
Sarah knelt between his legs, taking great satisfaction in the shift in the balance of power, and knotted the scarf fiercely around his outstretched hands. The first time she did it, he snuck the loop around his thumb faster than she could follow, and only shrugged when she scolded him. He moved more slowly, patiently, the next time, and the next, until she could understand his movements and the twist of
his wrist behind the trick.
"Well, Sarah," he said eventually. "Ready to try it again?"
Sarah gave him a considering look. "No, I want to see you get out of it properly once, first," she declared. "Hands behind your back."
The Doctor rolled his eyes, but complied, sticking his hands behind him as Sarah crawled around his body. He shivered as she dragged the scarf over his shoulder, and she laughed, poking him in the side. "Ticklish?" she teased. The Doctor refused to answer, focusing instead on setting himself up to escape from the knots Sarah was tying. He could almost… there. A loop settled around his thumb just as Sarah tied off the last of the knots.
"There," she said triumphantly. "Let's see how that goes. Especially if I distract you a ittle." She slipped her hands under the lapels of the Doctor's coat and began dragging it slowly down his arms towards his bound wrists.
"Sarah! What are you doing?" the Doctor yelped, nearly losing his grip on the scarf in his surprise.
Sarah giggled, still behind him. "I told you," she said. "I'm being distracting!" She slid her hands over the front off his shirt and down towards his sides. The Doctor wiggled despite himself and redoubled his efforts to get free. Distracting. Yes, she certainly was that.
She chuckled again, this time disconcertingly close to his ear, and he actually jumped as he felt her hands worm their way up under the hem of his shirt. She was very warm, almost hot against his skin.
"Sarah Jane Smith!" he barked out, startled, feeling the loop slide over his thumb and give him the slack he needed to work his way loose. "Do you always act this way when you've been tied up? If so, no wonder people do it to you so often," he muttered under his breath.
"Ooh, Doctor, I heard that," Sarah said cheerfully. "Someone's having too much fun! It's just not quite as nice when you're the one tied up as it is when you're doing the tying, though, is - eeek!" The Doctor chose that opportune moment to free himself. He shrugged the rest of the way out of his coat and turned to face Sarah, scarf in hand.
She was already on her feet, backing away, trying to conceal the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. As the Doctor came closer, she darted - but he caught her around the waist and easily swung her into the air. They both tumbled to the ground, laughing, the Doctor holding Sarah down with his body.
"Ooh, you got me, didn't you," she said saucily, wriggling underneath him but not managing to get very far.
"But what should I do with you?" he asked, the twinkle in his eye betraying his serious tone. "I know!" He lifted her hands up above her head and bound them together with one end of the scarf. "Leave them there," he said sternly, and she nodded, trembling.
It was his turn now to slide his fingers under her shirt. The touch of his cool flesh on her stomach sent a chill up her spine and raised goosebumps on her arms. She watched avidly as his gentle hands traced unrecognizable designs on her skin and almost missed it when he started speaking.
"You know," he began conversationally, edging her shirt further up her torso, "the most important thing in a partnership is trust, don't you agree? Without trust, you really can't manage anything, not and have matters work out as they're supposed to. Isn't that right, Sarah?" he said, pinning her with a fierce gaze. She nodded, somewhat taken aback by the intensity of his focus.
"Do you trust me, Sarah?" he asked. She nodded immediately. "Excellent," he grinned, and tugged her shirt up so that it covered her eyes.
"Oh, Doctor!" she gasped, instinctively trying to bring her hands down to move the shirt. A sharp tug on the scarf still tying her hands stopped her, though.
"No, Sarah," the Doctor said. "Leave them there." His voice was no harsher than it usually was, but Sarah swallowed hard and wasted no time putting her hands back where they had been. Her entire body shuddered when she felt his hands undoing the fastenings on her jeans and pulling them down her legs, but she kept her hands still.
"Very good," the Doctor said approvingly, his voice hovering somewhere around her left ear. Sarah's body tensed; she strained for more information - where was he, what was he doing. She felt horribly exposed, lying on the floor of the TARDIS in only her underwear, not knowing whether the Doctor was looking at her... a delicious frisson of tension ran through her at the thought, and she squirmed against the hard floor, rubbing her thighs together.
"Ah, not fair!" the Doctor said, from down closer to her hips this time. She jerked in surprise when the voice was followed up by sensation. Something drifted across her bare stomach and over her hipbone - light and teasing, barely there, just enough of a feeling to make her arch up, hoping for more.
The light touch disappeared with her movement, and she moaned in frustration, only to gasp as it returned elsewhere. The inside of her arms, the curve of her cheek, the valley between her breasts - the soft whisper of a touch ghosted over her body, exciting sensitive skin, but never staying long enough in any one place.
"Doctor, what is that?" she pleaded.
"Trust me, Sarah," he replied, and she sank back, frustrated.
Soon Sarah was panting, her muscles tense and quivering, waiting for the next brush of sensation. It didn't come; instead, she felt fingers hook into the waistband of her knickers. She lifted her hips and the Doctor slid them slowly down her legs and off.
She arched up, hoping, and was not disappointed: the touch returned, but firmer this time, the rough material pressing between her legs with one of the Doctor's fingers behind it. Sarah moaned and shifted down, rubbing herself shamelessly against what she now suspected was
the other end of the scarf.
The Doctor chuckled, and Sarah thought briefly that she really must look a picture, but then he circled her clitoris with his thumb, pressing the scarf's ridges against her, and she lost track of her thoughts.
She felt one cool finger brush lower, pressing into her opening, and she couldn't help crying out. Her orgasm rushed over her, intensified by her continuing inability to see through the makeshift blindfold or move her hands. All she could hear was the Doctor's voice, but she couldn't make out words in what he was saying. She convulsed and shuddered as he continued to move against her and inside her, coaxing her to another peak before she subsided into his hands.
When she opened her eyes next, she could see - the Doctor had pulled the shirt away from her face. She smiled gently at him and stretched. "Hmm, well, I'd certainly trust you with my life after that, " she joked.
He returned her smile, caressing her cheek with a finger. "That is very good to know," he replied.
He reached up to release her hands, only to be surprised when she unwound the scarf from about her wrists and wrapped her arms around his neck. "What - how long have you been free?" he demanded
suspiciously.
"Oh, ages," Sarah replied, smirking. "I didn't see any reason why you had to know." At the Doctor's offended look, Sarah laughed. She began brushing the fringe of the scarf over the Doctor's lips, back and forth, slowly. "Now, Doctor," she said. "What was that about
trust?"
Author: Kathryne (tellitslant)
Pairing: Four/Sarah Jane
Rating: NC-17
Sarah flopped into a chair, letting out a small grunt as she landed slightly too hard on bruised portions of her anatomy. "It never is boring with you, is it, Doctor," she said, wiggling around and trying to find a comfortable position. "I've been shot at, knocked out, hypnotised - and tied up I don't know how many times! I'm starting to think I'll end up with permanent rope burns." She massaged her wrists tenderly, glancing up to see if the Doctor was actually paying any attention to her complaints.
For a change, he was; in fact, he was studying her quite closely, and the thoughtful look on his face was slightly disconcerting. "You know, you're right," he said slowly.
"Well, of course I'm right," Sarah shot back. "You think I don't know what's been happening to me?"
"No, no, of course. I mean, you do seem to keep getting taken prisoner, don't you. Maybe it's about time we started using that to our advantage." He tossed his hat at the TARDIS console, neatly ringing it on one of the levers, and pulled his scarf off with a flourish. "It's been some time since I visited with Houdini," he mused under his breath, "but I'm sure I haven't forgotten anything he taught me."
He crossed to Sarah and knelt in front of her with a bit of a grin on his face. "Now, Sarah." He held up the scarf and pulled it taut. "Give me your hands."
Instinctively, Sarah shoved her hands behind her and sat on them. "Wait, now what's the idea here?" she asked warily. She had learned the hard way not to give in to the Doctor's impulses until she understood them properly.
"Why, Sarah! Don't you trust me?" The Doctor looked slightly hurt. "I'm just going to show you a few of the tricks I've learned so you can escape next time you get captured - if there is a next time, of course, which I'm sure there won't be," he corrected himself hastily. "But I can't very well show you unless I tie you up. Come on, then." And he held the scarf up again.
Sarah swallowed. The idea of being tied up made her nervous - especially as often as it had been happening in their travels - but she couldn't deny that being able to escape when someone less friendly restrained her did have its appeal.
"You can't just... demonstrate?" she tried without much hope.
The Doctor shook his head vehemently. "Certainly not," he declared. "You have to do it yourself to know if you can. Now, if you won't give me your hands..."
Before Sarah could react, he slipped the scarf around one of her ankles and tied her to the chair leg. "Hey!" she protested, but she couldn't get out of his grip, and he calmly secured the other ankle in the same way.
"Oh, come on, Doctor," Sarah wheedled, leaning over to try at the knots. The Doctor took the opportunity to grab her wrists and wrap the scarf around and between them. She gave up with a sigh and sank back against the seat, letting him wind the scarf around her waist and secure it behind the chair.
"Well then!" The Doctor sat back on his heels, satisfied with his work. "Let's see you try and get out of that, and I'll tell you what you're doing wrong."
Sarah gave him as intimidating a glare as she could manage, given that she was tied to a chair by a multicoloured scarf.
"No rush," the Doctor said placidly. "I'll wait."
**
Two hours later, Sarah was thoroughly sick of the doctor's scarf, not to mention the Doctor himself. She had to admit, though, that she was becoming quite adept at slipping out of most of the bonds he tied, and it had been extremely gratifying to discover that she was flexible enough to slip her bound hands from behind her back to in front of her- something the Doctor couldn't do! Only one technique was still giving her serious trouble.
"No - no, Sarah, not like that," the Doctor said, exasperated. "You've got to wrap a loop of rope around your thumb and then hide it between your hands. Don't try and take too much or whoever's tying you up will notice, and then where will you be? You just need enough to give you a bit of wiggle room. Now, let's try that again." He untied Sarah's hands; she snatched them away and folded her arms across her chest obstinately.
"I don't think so, Doctor," she said with a mutinous glare. "I think it's your turn. Why don't you show me how you do this trick you're so keen on, hm?"
The Doctor sighed. "Well, all right," he said, "I'll show you once. Just so you can see what it looks like when it's done right." He tossed the scarf to Sarah and sat back on the floor nonchalantly.
Sarah knelt between his legs, taking great satisfaction in the shift in the balance of power, and knotted the scarf fiercely around his outstretched hands. The first time she did it, he snuck the loop around his thumb faster than she could follow, and only shrugged when she scolded him. He moved more slowly, patiently, the next time, and the next, until she could understand his movements and the twist of
his wrist behind the trick.
"Well, Sarah," he said eventually. "Ready to try it again?"
Sarah gave him a considering look. "No, I want to see you get out of it properly once, first," she declared. "Hands behind your back."
The Doctor rolled his eyes, but complied, sticking his hands behind him as Sarah crawled around his body. He shivered as she dragged the scarf over his shoulder, and she laughed, poking him in the side. "Ticklish?" she teased. The Doctor refused to answer, focusing instead on setting himself up to escape from the knots Sarah was tying. He could almost… there. A loop settled around his thumb just as Sarah tied off the last of the knots.
"There," she said triumphantly. "Let's see how that goes. Especially if I distract you a ittle." She slipped her hands under the lapels of the Doctor's coat and began dragging it slowly down his arms towards his bound wrists.
"Sarah! What are you doing?" the Doctor yelped, nearly losing his grip on the scarf in his surprise.
Sarah giggled, still behind him. "I told you," she said. "I'm being distracting!" She slid her hands over the front off his shirt and down towards his sides. The Doctor wiggled despite himself and redoubled his efforts to get free. Distracting. Yes, she certainly was that.
She chuckled again, this time disconcertingly close to his ear, and he actually jumped as he felt her hands worm their way up under the hem of his shirt. She was very warm, almost hot against his skin.
"Sarah Jane Smith!" he barked out, startled, feeling the loop slide over his thumb and give him the slack he needed to work his way loose. "Do you always act this way when you've been tied up? If so, no wonder people do it to you so often," he muttered under his breath.
"Ooh, Doctor, I heard that," Sarah said cheerfully. "Someone's having too much fun! It's just not quite as nice when you're the one tied up as it is when you're doing the tying, though, is - eeek!" The Doctor chose that opportune moment to free himself. He shrugged the rest of the way out of his coat and turned to face Sarah, scarf in hand.
She was already on her feet, backing away, trying to conceal the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. As the Doctor came closer, she darted - but he caught her around the waist and easily swung her into the air. They both tumbled to the ground, laughing, the Doctor holding Sarah down with his body.
"Ooh, you got me, didn't you," she said saucily, wriggling underneath him but not managing to get very far.
"But what should I do with you?" he asked, the twinkle in his eye betraying his serious tone. "I know!" He lifted her hands up above her head and bound them together with one end of the scarf. "Leave them there," he said sternly, and she nodded, trembling.
It was his turn now to slide his fingers under her shirt. The touch of his cool flesh on her stomach sent a chill up her spine and raised goosebumps on her arms. She watched avidly as his gentle hands traced unrecognizable designs on her skin and almost missed it when he started speaking.
"You know," he began conversationally, edging her shirt further up her torso, "the most important thing in a partnership is trust, don't you agree? Without trust, you really can't manage anything, not and have matters work out as they're supposed to. Isn't that right, Sarah?" he said, pinning her with a fierce gaze. She nodded, somewhat taken aback by the intensity of his focus.
"Do you trust me, Sarah?" he asked. She nodded immediately. "Excellent," he grinned, and tugged her shirt up so that it covered her eyes.
"Oh, Doctor!" she gasped, instinctively trying to bring her hands down to move the shirt. A sharp tug on the scarf still tying her hands stopped her, though.
"No, Sarah," the Doctor said. "Leave them there." His voice was no harsher than it usually was, but Sarah swallowed hard and wasted no time putting her hands back where they had been. Her entire body shuddered when she felt his hands undoing the fastenings on her jeans and pulling them down her legs, but she kept her hands still.
"Very good," the Doctor said approvingly, his voice hovering somewhere around her left ear. Sarah's body tensed; she strained for more information - where was he, what was he doing. She felt horribly exposed, lying on the floor of the TARDIS in only her underwear, not knowing whether the Doctor was looking at her... a delicious frisson of tension ran through her at the thought, and she squirmed against the hard floor, rubbing her thighs together.
"Ah, not fair!" the Doctor said, from down closer to her hips this time. She jerked in surprise when the voice was followed up by sensation. Something drifted across her bare stomach and over her hipbone - light and teasing, barely there, just enough of a feeling to make her arch up, hoping for more.
The light touch disappeared with her movement, and she moaned in frustration, only to gasp as it returned elsewhere. The inside of her arms, the curve of her cheek, the valley between her breasts - the soft whisper of a touch ghosted over her body, exciting sensitive skin, but never staying long enough in any one place.
"Doctor, what is that?" she pleaded.
"Trust me, Sarah," he replied, and she sank back, frustrated.
Soon Sarah was panting, her muscles tense and quivering, waiting for the next brush of sensation. It didn't come; instead, she felt fingers hook into the waistband of her knickers. She lifted her hips and the Doctor slid them slowly down her legs and off.
She arched up, hoping, and was not disappointed: the touch returned, but firmer this time, the rough material pressing between her legs with one of the Doctor's fingers behind it. Sarah moaned and shifted down, rubbing herself shamelessly against what she now suspected was
the other end of the scarf.
The Doctor chuckled, and Sarah thought briefly that she really must look a picture, but then he circled her clitoris with his thumb, pressing the scarf's ridges against her, and she lost track of her thoughts.
She felt one cool finger brush lower, pressing into her opening, and she couldn't help crying out. Her orgasm rushed over her, intensified by her continuing inability to see through the makeshift blindfold or move her hands. All she could hear was the Doctor's voice, but she couldn't make out words in what he was saying. She convulsed and shuddered as he continued to move against her and inside her, coaxing her to another peak before she subsided into his hands.
When she opened her eyes next, she could see - the Doctor had pulled the shirt away from her face. She smiled gently at him and stretched. "Hmm, well, I'd certainly trust you with my life after that, " she joked.
He returned her smile, caressing her cheek with a finger. "That is very good to know," he replied.
He reached up to release her hands, only to be surprised when she unwound the scarf from about her wrists and wrapped her arms around his neck. "What - how long have you been free?" he demanded
suspiciously.
"Oh, ages," Sarah replied, smirking. "I didn't see any reason why you had to know." At the Doctor's offended look, Sarah laughed. She began brushing the fringe of the scarf over the Doctor's lips, back and forth, slowly. "Now, Doctor," she said. "What was that about
trust?"