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The Punishment	By : romythoms Category: 1 through F > Doctor Who Views: 2756 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: DISCLAIMER: I don't own Dr Who, and make no money from this work

Chapter List
- 1-The Punishment
- 1
“Section Leader Shaw, you said yourself that this… Doctor, as he calls himself, is clearly a spy.”

“Yes, Brigade Leader.” She stands at attention in front of his desk. She knows she has failed in her duty and knows she will be punished. Her breathing quickens with fear – and excitement.

“It is also clear that in order to gain the knowledge and information he has about us and the Inferno project, he has been on this base for some time. To whom did I delegate responsibility for site security, Section Leader Shaw?”

“To me, sir.”

“And what is your assessment of your performance in this matter?”

She bites her lip, lowers her gaze from his scarred, cruelly handsome face to the edge of the desk. “Inadequate, Brigade Leader.”

“Inadequate?” He leans forward in his chair, folding his hands in front of him. “My word for it would be ‘pathetic’. Since your failure to carry out this simple task reflects on me, you will understand that I am not just disappointed. I am displeased.”

“Yes, Brigade Leader. I’m sorry.”

“This will have to go on your record,” he says, sitting back. “I will also have to note that you have been duly punished for your lapse.”

She knows she's blushing as he looks her up and down, and his mouth quirks in a half-smile, half-sneer.

“I believe you know the routine,” he says.

“Yes, Leader but… the door’s not locked.”

“I don’t take kindly to being made to look a fool. Not even by you. Now, you can take your clothes off here, and take your chances on someone coming in - or I can have you stripped naked and paraded through the barracks. Your choice.”

*****

When she has removed her clothes and folded them neatly onto the chair behind her, he orders her to “stand at ease”, so that her hands are behind her back and her legs apart. Only now does he get to his feet, picking up his riding crop as he walks around the desk. He fondles her breasts with his free hand, then moves behind her and rubs her backside, which is still sore from the spanking he gave her last night.

Standing in front of her again, he holds the end of the crop in front of her mouth, and she presses her lips against it before he moves it down her chin, skims her throat and taps it gently against each nipple in turn. Turning the crop horizontally, he tells her to open her mouth, and she takes it to hold between her teeth. With his hands free, he is able to play with her tits, squeezing and slapping them, rubbing and pinching, while she struggles to maintain her “at ease” position. She knows that if she moves her hands or feet without permission, the punishment will be increased – but her hips writhe of their own accord, and he smirks.

Lowering a hand between her legs, he pushes a finger into her while his thumb fiddles with her clit, and she groans with need, pressing herself against the busy digits.

“Slut,” he says, “I ought to change your rank designation to Sex Leader.”

Abruptly, he withdraws his fingers, leaving her panting, wanting more. The crop is removed from her mouth, he replaces it with the fingers that have been in her, and she licks and sucks without prompting, knowing what is required.

“Very good,” he says, running his fingers through her hair to dry them. “Now – present arse.”

It isn’t a standard army order, but it is one that Shaw is familiar with and she climbs onto the Brigade Leader’s desk. On elbows and knees, she pushes her head down and her backside up, arching her back and spreading her legs. He tugs on her hair, pulling her head back, and pushes her panties into her mouth.

“Perfect,” he says, “Maintain that position, Section Leader.”

He’s behind her, and she moans with anticipation as she feels the tip of the riding crop slide across her rump. Then there's a knock on the door, and she moans again as the Brigade Leader shouts "come in!"

She hears boots stamp to attention, and Benton's voice report that the prisoners have been secured for the night.

"Thank you, Underleader. As you can see, I'm about to punish Section Leader Shaw for allowing the spy to infiltrate the base so thoroughly. Make yourself useful and count the strokes for me."

She can hear the leer in Benton's voice as he assents, and she cringes with humiliation. But she remembers the threat of being paraded in front of all the men, and remains in position on the desk, as she was ordered to.

The first blow lands without warning and she jerks her head, a brief scream of pain muffled by the makeshift gag. He teases, swishing the crop without it landing so that she cannot anticipate when the next hit will find its mark, and between blows he rubs the crop against her wet folds, making her groan with craving as he pats the tip lightly against her clit before slashing it hard against her bottom once again.

She hears Benton counting. When he reaches "twelve", she is sobbing with the curious mixture of pain and pleasure the Brigade Leader arouses in her, but she daren’t move her hands to wipe her face and the tears course unchecked down her cheeks.

"Thank you, Benton. Dismissed."

She hears boots turn and go, the door opens and closes, and still she doesn't move. The Brigade Leader's hands rub her bottom, landing smacks when she flinches, then he fondles her cunt again and she hikes her ass around, wanting him.

“In heat, bitch?” He pulls his hand away from her pussy and smacks her again. “I asked you a question. Are you in heat, bitch?”

She closes her eyes, nods.

“You want to get fucked? Have that hot, wet hole filled with a big, stiff, throbbing shaft?”

She whimpers, picturing it, nods again.

“Better get on your back then – where you belong.”

*****

She’s on her back on the desk, her head hanging back over the edge facing the door, her hands holding her ankles as far back and apart as she can manage. The panties are still in her mouth, and she moans around the gag as she gets an upside-down view of the Brigade Leader unbuttoning his flies and stroking his erection.

Then he moves to the side of the desk and she loses sight of him. She hears him clamber onto the desk, his hands grip the backs of her thighs and he pauses. She goes hot with shame as she thinks about the view he is admiring – her upturned, crop-striped butt; spread legs, displaying her hairless, soaking pussy; flat belly, jutting breasts, smooth exposed white throat.

She can’t move: she wants him too much. She daren’t move: she knows he will make good his threat to parade her through the barracks if she does. Whipped, gagged, naked, she displays herself, waiting.

He rams his cock into her without warning, making her cry out, and he pushes down hard, grinding his crotch against hers. She can feel the coarse hairs around the base of his erection scratching against the sensitive skin lining the entrance to her cunt, and she pushes her hips up and down as he starts to fuck with brutal, jackhammer thrusts.

When he’s finished, he climbs off the desk, removes the panties from her mouth, and wipes his softening dick with them. Shaw remains in her ‘fuck me’ position, wondering how long he will choose to make her stay that way.

“Thank you, sir,” she ventures.

“Have you learned your lesson, Section Leader whore?”

“Yes sir. I will not fail you again, sir.”

“No. You won’t. Not if you know what’s good for you.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Do you? Let's see how well you've learned to carry out simple instructions. Get off the desk, get on your knees and finger yourself," he says.

He stands over her, watching as she writhes and rubs and wriggles. His penis, which is still hanging outside his trousers, stretches and hardens again as she pleasures herself at his feet.

After a while, he sits down on one of the hard wooden chairs. "Come here."

She crawls across to him, opening her mouth wide as he feeds her his cock, gagging on its hard length as he grabs her hair to force her to take more of it down her throat. Her head bobs up and down as she sucks on him, and she brings her hands into play, uses her tongue the way she knows he likes it, till he gasps, "Stop!" After a moment, he adds, "Keep your mouth open - and stick your tongue out. Keep fingering that pussy, bitch, I want to see you cum."

Reaching down between her legs again, she works her fingers into herself, drumming them faster and deeper against her own pleasure centres, as she kneels naked between his legs and watches him wank. His cum spurts over her face, and he aims the rest into her mouth just before she reaches her own orgasm.

When she's licked him clean, he tucks his dick back in his trousers and buttons up. "Alright," he said, "You can get dressed."

Slowly, she gets to her feet, breathing hard, trembling, her skin damp with sweat. “May I have my panties, please, Brigade Leader?”

“No,” he says with a smirk, “You’re not to wear any underwear for a week. I may decide to lift your skirt up and show those pretty stripes to the men, if I think they need encouraging to do their jobs properly.”

"Yes, Brigade Leader."

Leaning back in the chair with his arms folded, he watches while she puts her uniform back on. When she’s finished, he stands up and kisses her, and she knows she has to find a way to rid herself of him, and this terrible, aching desire.
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The Punishment