AN: This is EXTREMELY dark! Trigger warnings, etc, non-con, anal, bondage, drugged sex, first time, dark!Doctor, screwdriver, rough and merciless sex... pretty much every kink I could think of rolled into one.

Who the hell knows where Rory went during this entire story ;)

This is my first smut fic so please be gentle :)

Cheers! Enjoy! And please review!

Amy Pond was just an ordinary girl.

Sure, she traveled in time with a two-hearted alien and had visited planets long since dead or yet to be created, but, in the end, she was just an ordinary girl.

And ordinary girls were not lustful or eager every second of the day. Sure, they had their fantasies, and days when every touch sent the prospects of more rushing to their heads and between their legs. Sure, they could flirt and tease until their arousal was almost palpable in the air. But ordinary girls also had off-days, when they would be too exhausted or angry or hurt or chocolate-deprived to pay much attention to any male advances, much less to males who took hard work and endless coaxing.

So, after 48 hours on the run from Trilaxian fire-monks and little to no sleep and food, Amy Pond wasn't very intent on anything but a stop at the TARDIS kitchen and a long-awaited date with her beautiful, beautiful bed.

She stumbled through the TARDIS door, knees shaking with fatigue, every muscle aching painfully. Her long ginger hair was matted and dirty, and her limbs were stiff from running. Hanging onto the doorframe for just a second, Amy collapsed to the ground of the TARDIS and flopped onto her back, content to go to sleep right there.

The Doctor stumbled in behind her, nearly tripping over his young companion. He chuckled, but his forehead was creased with worry.

"I'm sorry, Pond. I'm so sorry I got us into that. But you… You did absolutely brilliantly! 48 hours out there, in the wild, the TARDIS nowhere in sight, and you outran that pack of monks like a Wasekkian sloth!"

Amy groaned and forced herself to open her eyes, her hands on her temples. "Like a sloth? Doctor, I think you're confusing your animals. These aches definitely did not come from moving like a sloth."

The Doctor chuckled again, reaching out a hand to help her up. After a very long mental battle, she grudgingly took his hand and allowed herself to be pulled up to a standing position again.

"Amy, you've never been to Wasek. The whole planet is in a state of temporal flux. Mixed with the way the planet spins on its axis, it causes every creature to seemingly speed up by about three-"

The Doctor was interrupted by a long groan from Amy, who was rubbing her temples as if the Doctor's incessant babbling was actually causing her pain.

"If you don't mind, Doctor, I think I'll just go to bed now."

"Oh. Right. Right, of course, Pond. It's been a very long two days."

Amy gave her childhood friend a wan smile, and stumbled off towards her bedroom. Or, at least, she tried to. Amy made it all of five steps before she lost her balance and collapsed against the center console.

The Doctor was there in a millisecond, gently propping her up on his shoulder and guiding her across the console room.

"There, there, Pond. You've been so very, very brave and you are completely exhausted. I'm sorry. I never wanted you to be hurt."

Amy only managed a small sigh against his shoulder, her eyelids drooping closed as they stumbled awkwardly down a corridor.

Finally, the strain of her arm wrapped around the Doctor's shoulder became too much for her aching muscles.

"Doctor," she whimpered against his tweed jacket. "Everything hurts."

The Doctor stopped and carefully rearranged her arm so that it was more comfortable, letting more of her body weight lean against his side.

"I know, I know," he murmured in her hair. "Here, let's go to the med bay, I can help you feel better before you go to sleep."

Amy nodded sluggishly against his shoulder, and the pair began moving again. The TARDIS helped by diverting some hallways, and they entered the med bay almost instantly. It was fortunate, because not a minute after they approached an exam table did Amy lose all control of her tired muscles, collapsing onto the flat surface beneath her. The Doctor caught her head gently and lifted her legs onto the table.

Amy could barely hear the Doctor shuffling around behind her as she lay on the table, her consciousness quickly fading. She was so, so tired. If only she could go to sleep right there…

Amy opened her heavy eyes at the feeling of a syringe being stuck into her arm.

"Ow!" She let out halfheartedly, already closing her eyes again.

"It's okay," the Doctor said, his voice low and soft. "It's just medicine to help your muscles stop hurting. It should take complete effect in just a few seconds."

Right on cue, a pool of cool, peaceful feeling spread out from Amy's chest, leaking into each limb and washing over the hot, achy feelings harbored there. Amy immediately relaxed, all of the pain gone.

"Better?" the Doctor asked.

"Much," Amy sighed contentedly. Now she could really sleep. Wait.

"Doctor," she mumbled. "Food."

The Doctor nodded and opened a mini fridge on the wall which hadn't been there before. He pulled out a hearty looking sandwich wrapped in plastic, and it looked like her favorite type. Amy tried to sit up, but despite her pain being gone, her muscles still felt like liquid. The Doctor noticed her predicament and stood behind the table, propping her back up on his chest so that she could sit up. Amy eagerly took the sandwich and started unwrapping it, but her fingers were dumb and heavy. Frustrated, Amy let out a low growl. The Doctor again came to her rescue, shedding the plastic to the floor with quick, nimble fingers.

Although he had been running just as much as she had, something about his Timelord physiology gave him fifty times her human endurance. He was probably tired, but not nearly as exhausted as Amy was. Or was he? Amy realized that she had only ever assumed that Timelords needed to sleep.

This train of thought was too complicated for her battered mind, so she turned her attention to the sandwich in her hands. The first bite was heavenly. So was the second. But after the third bite, Amy's eyes began drooping closed, and her hand, still clutching the sandwich, fell limp onto her lap. Even her hunger could not stave off the needs of her abused body.

The Doctor let out a small 'hmmm', and, rotating her body so that he could prop her up against a counter, silently took the sandwich out of her hand and started to feed her in tiny pieces. Amy appreciated the act at first, but quickly realized how truly mortifying this was. Was she really so weak that she couldn't even feed herself? Amy waved her hand in an attempt to swat the Doctor and his damned sandwich away, but he continued to valiantly treat her like a helpless child.

"Doctor, no," she finally uttered. "It's bad enough that I can't even sit up straight without your help."

The Doctor frowned and stared at her helplessly. "But you're right, Amy, you need food. Your body has been seriously deprived and I don't want you to be even sicker in the morning. I have to get sustenance in you now, before you become unconscious."

"Then get that magic fridge to give me a healing potion," Amy mumbled, already losing her will to continue this argument.

The Doctor stared at her wide-eyed and snapped his fingers. "Yes! Of course! Brilliant, Pond! It won't even require you to swallow."

He rummaged around in some drawers until he emerged triumphant with another damned needle, the syringe filled with a shiny-looking purple liquid.

Amy squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She hated needles.

The medicine, or potion, or whatever it was, entered into her system immediately. The throbbing ache of hunger was erased just as quickly as the pain in her muscles, and she sighed contentedly again.

"Off to bed!" the Doctor said cheerily, and repeated the process of leaning Amy against him, until they were out of the med bay and back into a dark metal corridor.

Amy saw the door to her room a few paces away, and closed her eyes again, breathing in the comforting, earthy scent of the Doctor's jacket.

But the Doctor stopped moving and she felt his body leave her as he leaned her against the corridor wall, standing with some difficulty. Amy didn't bother opening her eyes.

The Doctor's touch was back a few seconds later, as she knew it would be.

"Let's get you in your jammies, okay? We don't want you to sleep in those uncomfortable clothes, now do we?" The Doctor's voice was soft and kind. This proposition, unlike the feeding, was not too much of a breach of dignity.

Amy gratefully let the Doctor pull her heavy jumper over her head, and she heard it settle to the ground with a soft rustling. Next he unbuttoned the stiff and uncomfortable jean miniskirt, sliding it down to her ankles. With the Doctor's arms to support her, she slowly stepped out of the skirt. The Doctor kicked it aside. Next he slowly unpeeled her stockings from her sticky legs, letting her step out of them equally as slowly. Amy was now in just her knickers and a tank top over her bra. The cool air felt nice.

If she had been any more lucid, Amy would have wondered why the Doctor was undressing her here, instead of in her bedroom. Where her jammies still sat, folded on top of her bed.

The Doctor moved to take her tank top off, and even the release from that thin material felt good. Now she expected the Doctor to carry her the few paces towards her bed, tuck her in, and let her slip away into delicious sleep.

Instead, she felt his cool fingers on the warm skin of her chest, undoing the front-clip of her bra.

At this Amy finally opened her eyes, looking up at the Doctor's shadowed face quickly.

"Doctor? It's okay, I usually sleep in my bra."

The Doctor's look, or what she could see of it in the dark, was incredulous.

"Really? How can you stand to sleep with those wires poking into you?" he asked. As if to prove his point, the doctor pressed down on the wire rimming of Amy's bra, until it pressed into her skin almost painfully.

"Ow! Doctor, that hurts!" The Doctor immediately released the pressure, and Amy's heartbeat slowed. "It doesn't hurt unless someone does that," she said, slightly annoyed.

She started towards her door, but found herself still infuriatingly unable to move.

"Doctor, do you mind-"

The Doctor wordlessly pulled her body back towards his, a few more paces away from the door, and leaned her against the cool wall again.

"No, Doctor, I'm ready to go to bed," Amy explained tiredly.

"Be quiet," the Doctor ordered gruffly, and Amy did just that, staring at him stupidly.

"Wha-" she began, but the doctor silenced her roughly. His fingers moved slowly back to the clasp of Amy's bra, this time unhooking it completely. Before she could say a word, the Doctor had expertly removed the bra and flung it to the floor.

"Doctor!" Amy squealed, and flung her hands around her bare chest. "Wha… What are you doing?" she said, her voice shaky.

"What I want," he replied simply, and Amy tried to wrap her mind around the statement. What he wanted? Slowly, even through her clouded mind, a warmth crept into her thoughts. Is he saying he's always wanted this, to see her naked?

Amy smiled at him, and slowly removed her arms from across her breasts. "Is this what you want?" She asked him, threading her fingers through his soft brown hair.

In a flash, the Doctor had yanked both her arms savagely behind her head, and pinned them with one of his hands.

"Doctor!" Amy shouted in pain. "You're hurting me!"

Something passed over the Doctor's face, something dark and unfamiliar that sent a tight pit of terror into her stomach.

"This is what I want, Amelia. It has nothing to do with you." The Doctor's voice held none of its usual kindness or goofiness. Instead, it sent a deep chill racing through Amy's gut. The way he had said her name… It was almost like a curse.

Amy shivered involuntarily, very aware of her state of undress. "Doctor, what's going on? You're scaring me."

It was like he hadn't even heard her.

In the blink of an eye, the Doctor tore Amy's knickers off of her legs, the fabric cutting sharply into her thighs as it strained to be broken. Amy let out a cry of pain, trying to wrench her arms away from the Doctor's grip, but he held tight.

Without warning, two of the Doctor's fingers plunged deep inside of her.

Oh, God. Amy writhed, the Doctor's slender fingers moving in and out of her, but God, it hurt. She hadn't been wet at all, hadn't expected it at all, and he thrust in with such awful force…

Soon, though, the Doctor's steady movements began to send ripples of pleasure through her otherwise numb body. Wetness pooled between Amy's legs, coating the Doctor's fingers. He thrust another inside of her, and she moaned with pleasure.

"Doctor-" she panted as he crooked one finger and sent a wave of hot sensation to her brain. "Doctor. What- What brought this on?"

Amy couldn't help but be happy, even with her arms still throbbing above her head and the red marks on her thighs still stinging. Even with what seemed like the weight of a thousand planets pressing down on her, in the form of total exhaustion. She had dreamed too many times about the Doctor doing this to really think about everything else.

The Doctor ignored her again, continuing to push his slick fingers in and out, in and out, in and out. Between her heavy breaths and the rhythmic, soft aching of pleasure spreading from in between her legs, she began to droop against the wall, her legs failing to hold up her weight any longer.

The Doctor would have none of that. Suddenly, with excruciating pain, the Doctor pushed in his other two fingers, stretching her cruelly, painfully, until he formed his fingers into a fist mercilessly, pushing into her hard enough and far enough that her body was actually forced into a more upright position. She screamed in pain, black spots crowding her eyelids, and shook violently.

The Doctor stood like that, his fist deep inside of her, waiting for her to stop shaking.

"Doctor- I- Have you ever… Done this before? It's… It's very painful if you're too rough, or if there isn't enough lubrication," Amy breathed hardly. Which there certainly wasn't, because Amy had just begun getting aroused moments before, and every reaction was dampened by Amy's exhaustion.

The Doctor's face moved out of the shadows and she caught a black glint in his eyes. His face was unapologetic, though he must have heard how much it hurt, and almost… Gleeful.

"Do you think I care if you're in pain, Amelia?" The Doctor spat, and the venom of his words caused Amy to recoil against the metal wall, a stab of hurt pounding her gut.

"This is about what I want, Amelia, what pleasures me. You might as well accept that." The Doctor quickly withdrew his fist, causing a rush of breath to tear through Amy's lips, and let go of her wrists just long enough to yank her head up by her hair. He wiped his fist off on her hair nonchalantly, before uncurling his fingers and admiring the remaining silvery sheen of her wetness on them. Tightening his grip on her hair, the Doctor led her mouth to his fingers, parting her lips with his sodden hand.

Amy shook, and tried to step away, but the Doctor tightened his grip. Amy's heart raced. This was not the Doctor. There was something terribly, terribly wrong. She kept her mouth clamped tight.

The Doctor glared at her in an unnatural, unthinkable look of pure hatred, and stomped on her foot.

Amy cried out in pain before she could think, and the wet fingers shoved into her mouth.

Amy whimpered in protest, but the Doctor simply shoved his fingers towards her throat, until she was gagging and certain she couldn't breathe. The Doctor pulled them back to her tongue.

"I won't release you until you suck them dry." The Doctor's voice was dark, commanding, and emotionless. She knew he wouldn't have any qualms about hurting her, so she began sucking at one of his fingers.

Her taste was slightly sweet, and it became much easier to suckle the Doctor's flesh as he pulled each clean finger out. Her tongue ran up and down the length of his finger, and inexplicably she found myself savoring the juices, taking her time as she cleaned the last finger off. Finally, the Doctor pulled his finger out of her mouth and released her hair.

Amy's legs buckled beneath her, until she bent over at the waist, her face and palms resting on the cold metal of the corridor floor. The Doctor… Her Doctor… Her Doctor had hurt her, caused her to scream in pain, and didn't even take notice. It didn't make sense. It didn't make sense. It didn't make sense.

Amy repeated this phrase in her mind numbly, shuddering, tears somehow appearing at her cheeks, until she became aware of the Doctor looming over her, watching. She looked up. He was… Smiling. Amy shuddered. She should have tried to get away, but her tired mind- any state of mind- couldn't fathom what had happened to turn her Raggedy Doctor into a sadist.

"Doc-Doctor-" she trembled, words feeling thick and heavy on her tongue. "It's psychic pollen, or, or alien spores, or you're possessed. You're possessed!" Amy cried out triumphantly, sure she had gotten down to the bottom of the Doctor's behavior.

The Doctor let out a chuckle. But this chuckle, it was so different than the one she had heard as he helped her up from the TARDIS floor only… only an hour ago, at most. It was mirthless. Flat. And cruel.

"No, Amelia. It's just me. Just your childhood friend, the Raggedy Doctor, always come to save the day. You wouldn't disobey your Raggedy Doctor, would you, Amelia?"

Amy tried to shake her head clear, but the Doctor's continual use of her name somehow made her comfortable and warm, even as her sex throbbed with latent pain and her lips still tasted of her own cum.

"N-no…" She muttered dumbly, her hooded eyes reaching out for his in the darkness, seeking on a primal and childish level, her Raggedy Doctor's approval. She knew that he was still in there, somewhere, underneath the alien poison.

Instead of approval, Amelia only found contempt.

"Fragile human, so breakable," he murmured, kneeling down to Amelia's level. "So easy to make fall apart. To pieces, so easy to shatter." The Doctor's fingers trailed up Amy's stinging thighs until it reached her entrance, and despite herself, her sex throbbed with need. Amy's mind, however, completely disagreed. She scooted away from him, trying to put any amount of distance she could between them.

The Doctor simply chuckled again in that awful way and pinned her against the wall with one strong hand.

The Doctor trailed his fingers lazily up her thighs, darting around the apex every time he came close to that traitorous throbbing. He bent down to trace his tongue around the swell of her breasts, turning to suck on her hardening nipples. Amy whimpered, though terrified by the Doctor's words, comforted by this new and gentle touch that reminded her more of her Doctor.

Wetness dribbled from between her legs as he sucked and nipped at both of her breasts, all the while bringing his fingertips torturously close to her clit. When she felt his touch, she could almost forget everything that had happened and pretend that the Doctor was carrying out one of her endless fantasies, gentle and loving and so skilled. At least, the last part applied to him.

Finally, his finger touched her there and she gasped with pleasure, his deft hand stroking one long finger along her soaked lips and pressing down hard on her clit. Agonizingly slowly, nothing like the first time, the Doctor slid his finger inside of her and curled it, unfurled it, curled it again.

The pleasure was too much. With a smiling, gentle Doctor on her mind, Amy came screaming.

The Doctor caught her shoulders as she shook like a leaf, her abused body not cut out for such a release. She shivered breathlessly, dripping a tiny puddle onto the corridor floor, muscles tightening and untightening. The Doctor smiled darkly and guided her head down to the floor, trailing her lips over the puddle of cum.

Amy instinctively let her tongue flick out to lap up the moisture, her taste now familiar. When she shuddered and stopped, the Doctor forcefully took her head between two hands and forced it to move back and forth over the floor. Her tongue flicked out again- she was too numb to argue with his instructions- and lapped up the remaining liquid until the floor was left spotless.

It was only after the Doctor forced her to lap her cum off the floor that Amy slumped back, unconscious.