This Man of Mine
Title: This Man of Mine
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/John Smith, Martha/Ten
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Human Nature/Family of Blood
Summary: Martha Jones protects her own.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and the Doctor owns me…
Author Notes: This fic is for parrotfish who requested a sequel to A Quiet Day on the TARDIS. Again it's inspired by her pornographic personal canon and in particular the second item on the list: The whole unrequited crush thing was a running private joke between the two of them. It came up one day while playing bondage games, when Martha made the Doctor beg her to let him come, and she wouldn't let him until he promised her a mortgage, so he did but he said he'd never love her like that blonde one what's-her-name, and then they both came hard and had a good laugh.
This one's got a tad more plot than the first one...
You may notice this fic bears a slight resemblance to ladymako71's "Corporal" - but she assured me that she didn't feel it was necessary for me to re-write it.
~~~~~~
They'd only been in Farringham a few days but Martha had noticed Joan Redfern's interest in John Smith. She knew she would have to nip things in the bud, not least because John Smith was only going to be here for three months and it wouldn't be fair to Joan, even if she did treat Martha like dirt.
Martha gave the matter some thought for the rest of the day whilst scrubbing floors and cleaning rooms, and decided that there was only one course of action that would ensure that John Smith didn't return Joan's interest.
The following morning, she knocked on John Smith's door and went in with his breakfast as usual. He was sitting on his leather sofa in his pyjamas and dressing gown, looking at a book and only glanced up to greet Martha before turning his attention back to the book so he didn't notice when she quietly locked the door.
She carried his breakfast tray over to his desk and set it down, then moved to open the curtains and begin tidying up.
"Really sir, your rooms are such a muddle," she commented as she passed him to lay a new fire.
"Mmm?" He looked up. "Sorry Martha, what did you say?"
"I was just commenting on your rooms being in a muddle. You're worse than some of the boys." She smiled at him, wanting him to know she was teasing him a little, and he smiled back. "If you were a boy, you'd be punished for getting your rooms into such a state." She straightened up, watching him closely.
"Punished?" he asked, his Adam's apple bobbing convulsively as he swallowed and a faint blush crept into his cheeks.
She knew she had him then. "Yes sir. A caning, I should think."
His gaze darted to the cane resting on the edge of his desk, then back to her face. "Is that the standard punishment, or is there a lesser punishment for a first offence?" he asked and Martha was impressed that his voice was quite steady, especially since she could see he was becoming aroused.
"Well sir, I think a first offence may only merit a spanking," she answered, then bent to light the fire, being careful to keep her bottom in his line of sight as she did so.
"And who would administer the punishment?" he asked.
Martha straightened back up and turned to face him, wearing a thoughtful look. "The boys are punished by the Headmaster, but in your case, I think it would be up to me, as the person who has to deal with it every day."
He swallowed again. "Well then, perhaps I should assume the position?"
"If you wouldn't mind sir." Martha could see arousal in his eyes as well as his body now.
He stood up and shrugged off his dressing gown, then moved to the end of the sofa and put his hands on the arm. He moved his feet apart to allow him to maintain his balance, then looked across at her and nodded.
She moved behind him, then tugged his trousers down at the back, leaving them up at the front, knowing that they would be causing friction against his hardening cock. Then she smacked him - not too hard, but enough to cause a pleasurable sting. He gasped but didn't try to pull away.
"Again?" she asked.
"Yes." His answer was curt and she wondered if that was because he didn't trust himself to say more.
Her hand came down on his other cheek and this time he moaned something indistinct. He turned to look over his shoulder at her and she saw that his face was as red as his arse, but it was arousal not embarrassment. She closed the gap between them and ran her hand gently down his arse, then carefully reached between his legs to touch the base of his cock.
"Martha!" He gasped her name and she reached around him with her other hand to drag his pyjama trousers down at the front. "Fuck!" The word was an intense whisper.
"Is that what you want?" she asked quietly.
"Please." He gave her a pleading look and she guided him around the end of the sofa to sit down, then she knelt and pulled his trousers the rest of the way down his legs.
She stood up and dropped them onto the seat beside him, then moved towards him.
"I've never - " he started, suddenly looking embarrassed.
"Shh." She put a finger over his lips. "It's OK." She lifted up the skirt of her dress, then sat down in his lap, guiding his erection into herself.
"Oh god!" he gasped as he felt her heat engulfing him. "I think I'm going to come," he said on a half-sob.
"Shh." She eased her apron straps off her shoulders, then unfastened her dress and brought his right hand up to her bare breast: she wondered when he would realise that she'd come prepared to seduce him. She hadn't been positive that her remarks about punishing him would lead to this, but the Doctor had told her beforehand that John Smith would share his likes and dislikes, so it had seemed a fairly safe bet that he'd be aroused by the idea of being punished.
She began to move slowly against him, lifting herself up and down his length as he began to stroke and caress her breasts. After a while he moved his hands to her hips, and leant forward to suck a nipple into his mouth until it was hard, then he switched to the other one.
"You planned this," he said suddenly. She opened her eyes, which she'd closed as she savoured his mouth working on her. "You aren't wearing any underwear." He looked thoughtful. "Or do you usually not wear it?"
"I do." Most of the time, at least. "Do you mind, that I planned this?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I'm just surprised. It seems a bit - forward of you."
She smirked at him. "I'm a forward kind of girl," she answered. "Does that bother you?"
"I like it," he answered.
"Good." She began to pick up her pace, knowing they wouldn't have much longer before he'd have to eat his breakfast and dress for his first class. She took hold of his right wrist and guided his hand under her dress. "Touch me here," she said softly, pressing his finger to the bundle of nerves at her apex.
He obeyed and she pulled her hand away to hold his shoulders as she began to ride him harder.
When she came, she buried her face in the side of his neck, so that her cry would be muffled. She felt her muscles contracting around his length and he moaned quietly as his climax surged through him.
She rested her forehead against his, both of them breathing heavily. "OK?" she asked after a few minutes.
"Yes, oh yes." His mouth sought hers for a hungry kiss, their first so far.
Martha pulled away reluctantly. "You need to get dressed," she said.
He nodded. "Can we do this again?" he asked.
She grinned at him. "Including the spanking?"
His cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Is that OK?"
"If that's what you want." He nodded. "Then yes." She kissed his forehead, then pulled away from him. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she said.
She pulled her dress back up and refastened it, then let herself out of his room and hurried to the nearest toilets where she quickly freshened up. Then she put on some underwear which she had stuffed in the front pocket of her apron.
Later
When she had her lunchbreak, Martha went up to the room she shared with Jenny, knowing her friend would be downstairs for some time, and lay on her bed thinking about what she'd done and what the Doctor might say once he was back to his usual self. She had to admit, she'd never thought of spanking the Doctor: they usually went for tying each other up, mostly Martha tying or chaining him up in bed or in the TARDIS Control Room. Quite soon after she'd chained him up the first time, she'd asked him why he was so turned on by it.
"I like giving you control," he'd said simply. "Outside the TARDIS, it's usually me that's in charge, so it's only fair you should have some control in here."
She'd found he liked to be teased too, and he liked it even more if she made him beg for release. She closed her eyes, remembering.
Then
Martha surveyed her handiwork. The Doctor was stretched out on their bed, his wrists tied to the headboard, and he was very hard. She ran a finger down the line of hair from his belly button and smirked when a feather light touch to his cock made him buck his hips upwards.
"Now, now," she said lightly. "You're not to come until I say so, you know that Mr Smith."
"You're a torment, woman," he growled. "I don't know why I bother with you."
Martha mock-pouted at him. " 'cos you love me." She straddled his body, then sank down onto his straining erection.
He hissed in pleasure. "So hot," he murmured. He slid his feet up the bed and bent his knees so she could lean on them as she rode him.
"Hot and horny," she answered, lifting herself up, then sliding back down fast. She was close to orgasm as they'd been teasing each other for the last hour and a half.
"I don't love you," he said suddenly.
"Does that mean I'm not going to get a mortgage?" she asked as she lifted herself up again. He nodded. "Then I don't think I'm going to let you come," she said and for a moment he thought she was serious: he tugged at his bonds, wanting to grab her and slam her back down onto his aching cock.
"Fine, I'll give you a mortgage, but you know I'll never love you like I loved the blonde, what's-her-name."
Martha sank back down again and felt her orgasm closing in on her. "So you fuck the ones you don't love, but don't fuck the ones you do love, is that it?" she asked, remembering previous conversations about Rose and Reinette and Sarah Jane.
"Pretty much," he answered with a grin.
"I think I prefer it if you don't love me then," she said with a gasp as she reached her climax. She came hard, her muscles clenching tightly around him and his hips jerked as he came too.
"Are you going to tell your friends about your unrequited love for me, then?" he asked once he could speak again.
Martha laughed, as she continued to squeeze her muscles around him, milking every last drop of his release. "My tragic affair with the alien who only shags the girls he doesn't love?" she asked.
"Isn't that more interesting than the other kind of affair?" he asked, laughing too.
"You see me as a tragic romantic heroine, then?" She reached out and untied his arms, then lay down, her head tucked under his chin.
"A tragic romantic heroine with a bondage kink," he agreed, wrapping his arms around her.
"Mm, I like the sound of that." She shifted her hips against him.
"Greedy too," he said sleepily.
"Oh you're a fine one to talk, Mr 'I'm an alien, I can go for hours' Smith." She lifted her head from his chest to look at his face and saw him smirking at her. "Rotten tease," she said, before leaning in to kiss him hard.
He slid a hand down her back and began kneading her bottom. "Something about pots and kettles springs to mind, Miss 'I'm your mistress and you come when I say' Jones."
Martha giggled, beginning to feel aroused again and aware that they were still joined.
Now
Martha opened her eyes abruptly, aware that she was aroused again now. She wondered if John Smith was having lunch with the other masters or if he was eating in his rooms. She hadn't thought to ask him that this morning. She checked the clock and saw she still had forty-five minutes before she had to start work again. She chewed her lip for a moment, then decided to go and see if he was in his rooms. If he wasn't, she'd just have to get herself off.
She hurried down the two flights of stairs and along to John Smith's rooms. She knocked quietly on his door.
"Come in."
She grinned and went inside.
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/John Smith, Martha/Ten
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Human Nature/Family of Blood
Summary: Martha Jones protects her own.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and the Doctor owns me…
Author Notes: This fic is for parrotfish who requested a sequel to A Quiet Day on the TARDIS. Again it's inspired by her pornographic personal canon and in particular the second item on the list: The whole unrequited crush thing was a running private joke between the two of them. It came up one day while playing bondage games, when Martha made the Doctor beg her to let him come, and she wouldn't let him until he promised her a mortgage, so he did but he said he'd never love her like that blonde one what's-her-name, and then they both came hard and had a good laugh.
This one's got a tad more plot than the first one...
You may notice this fic bears a slight resemblance to ladymako71's "Corporal" - but she assured me that she didn't feel it was necessary for me to re-write it.
~~~~~~
They'd only been in Farringham a few days but Martha had noticed Joan Redfern's interest in John Smith. She knew she would have to nip things in the bud, not least because John Smith was only going to be here for three months and it wouldn't be fair to Joan, even if she did treat Martha like dirt.
Martha gave the matter some thought for the rest of the day whilst scrubbing floors and cleaning rooms, and decided that there was only one course of action that would ensure that John Smith didn't return Joan's interest.
The following morning, she knocked on John Smith's door and went in with his breakfast as usual. He was sitting on his leather sofa in his pyjamas and dressing gown, looking at a book and only glanced up to greet Martha before turning his attention back to the book so he didn't notice when she quietly locked the door.
She carried his breakfast tray over to his desk and set it down, then moved to open the curtains and begin tidying up.
"Really sir, your rooms are such a muddle," she commented as she passed him to lay a new fire.
"Mmm?" He looked up. "Sorry Martha, what did you say?"
"I was just commenting on your rooms being in a muddle. You're worse than some of the boys." She smiled at him, wanting him to know she was teasing him a little, and he smiled back. "If you were a boy, you'd be punished for getting your rooms into such a state." She straightened up, watching him closely.
"Punished?" he asked, his Adam's apple bobbing convulsively as he swallowed and a faint blush crept into his cheeks.
She knew she had him then. "Yes sir. A caning, I should think."
His gaze darted to the cane resting on the edge of his desk, then back to her face. "Is that the standard punishment, or is there a lesser punishment for a first offence?" he asked and Martha was impressed that his voice was quite steady, especially since she could see he was becoming aroused.
"Well sir, I think a first offence may only merit a spanking," she answered, then bent to light the fire, being careful to keep her bottom in his line of sight as she did so.
"And who would administer the punishment?" he asked.
Martha straightened back up and turned to face him, wearing a thoughtful look. "The boys are punished by the Headmaster, but in your case, I think it would be up to me, as the person who has to deal with it every day."
He swallowed again. "Well then, perhaps I should assume the position?"
"If you wouldn't mind sir." Martha could see arousal in his eyes as well as his body now.
He stood up and shrugged off his dressing gown, then moved to the end of the sofa and put his hands on the arm. He moved his feet apart to allow him to maintain his balance, then looked across at her and nodded.
She moved behind him, then tugged his trousers down at the back, leaving them up at the front, knowing that they would be causing friction against his hardening cock. Then she smacked him - not too hard, but enough to cause a pleasurable sting. He gasped but didn't try to pull away.
"Again?" she asked.
"Yes." His answer was curt and she wondered if that was because he didn't trust himself to say more.
Her hand came down on his other cheek and this time he moaned something indistinct. He turned to look over his shoulder at her and she saw that his face was as red as his arse, but it was arousal not embarrassment. She closed the gap between them and ran her hand gently down his arse, then carefully reached between his legs to touch the base of his cock.
"Martha!" He gasped her name and she reached around him with her other hand to drag his pyjama trousers down at the front. "Fuck!" The word was an intense whisper.
"Is that what you want?" she asked quietly.
"Please." He gave her a pleading look and she guided him around the end of the sofa to sit down, then she knelt and pulled his trousers the rest of the way down his legs.
She stood up and dropped them onto the seat beside him, then moved towards him.
"I've never - " he started, suddenly looking embarrassed.
"Shh." She put a finger over his lips. "It's OK." She lifted up the skirt of her dress, then sat down in his lap, guiding his erection into herself.
"Oh god!" he gasped as he felt her heat engulfing him. "I think I'm going to come," he said on a half-sob.
"Shh." She eased her apron straps off her shoulders, then unfastened her dress and brought his right hand up to her bare breast: she wondered when he would realise that she'd come prepared to seduce him. She hadn't been positive that her remarks about punishing him would lead to this, but the Doctor had told her beforehand that John Smith would share his likes and dislikes, so it had seemed a fairly safe bet that he'd be aroused by the idea of being punished.
She began to move slowly against him, lifting herself up and down his length as he began to stroke and caress her breasts. After a while he moved his hands to her hips, and leant forward to suck a nipple into his mouth until it was hard, then he switched to the other one.
"You planned this," he said suddenly. She opened her eyes, which she'd closed as she savoured his mouth working on her. "You aren't wearing any underwear." He looked thoughtful. "Or do you usually not wear it?"
"I do." Most of the time, at least. "Do you mind, that I planned this?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I'm just surprised. It seems a bit - forward of you."
She smirked at him. "I'm a forward kind of girl," she answered. "Does that bother you?"
"I like it," he answered.
"Good." She began to pick up her pace, knowing they wouldn't have much longer before he'd have to eat his breakfast and dress for his first class. She took hold of his right wrist and guided his hand under her dress. "Touch me here," she said softly, pressing his finger to the bundle of nerves at her apex.
He obeyed and she pulled her hand away to hold his shoulders as she began to ride him harder.
When she came, she buried her face in the side of his neck, so that her cry would be muffled. She felt her muscles contracting around his length and he moaned quietly as his climax surged through him.
She rested her forehead against his, both of them breathing heavily. "OK?" she asked after a few minutes.
"Yes, oh yes." His mouth sought hers for a hungry kiss, their first so far.
Martha pulled away reluctantly. "You need to get dressed," she said.
He nodded. "Can we do this again?" he asked.
She grinned at him. "Including the spanking?"
His cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Is that OK?"
"If that's what you want." He nodded. "Then yes." She kissed his forehead, then pulled away from him. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she said.
She pulled her dress back up and refastened it, then let herself out of his room and hurried to the nearest toilets where she quickly freshened up. Then she put on some underwear which she had stuffed in the front pocket of her apron.
Later
When she had her lunchbreak, Martha went up to the room she shared with Jenny, knowing her friend would be downstairs for some time, and lay on her bed thinking about what she'd done and what the Doctor might say once he was back to his usual self. She had to admit, she'd never thought of spanking the Doctor: they usually went for tying each other up, mostly Martha tying or chaining him up in bed or in the TARDIS Control Room. Quite soon after she'd chained him up the first time, she'd asked him why he was so turned on by it.
"I like giving you control," he'd said simply. "Outside the TARDIS, it's usually me that's in charge, so it's only fair you should have some control in here."
She'd found he liked to be teased too, and he liked it even more if she made him beg for release. She closed her eyes, remembering.
Then
Martha surveyed her handiwork. The Doctor was stretched out on their bed, his wrists tied to the headboard, and he was very hard. She ran a finger down the line of hair from his belly button and smirked when a feather light touch to his cock made him buck his hips upwards.
"Now, now," she said lightly. "You're not to come until I say so, you know that Mr Smith."
"You're a torment, woman," he growled. "I don't know why I bother with you."
Martha mock-pouted at him. " 'cos you love me." She straddled his body, then sank down onto his straining erection.
He hissed in pleasure. "So hot," he murmured. He slid his feet up the bed and bent his knees so she could lean on them as she rode him.
"Hot and horny," she answered, lifting herself up, then sliding back down fast. She was close to orgasm as they'd been teasing each other for the last hour and a half.
"I don't love you," he said suddenly.
"Does that mean I'm not going to get a mortgage?" she asked as she lifted herself up again. He nodded. "Then I don't think I'm going to let you come," she said and for a moment he thought she was serious: he tugged at his bonds, wanting to grab her and slam her back down onto his aching cock.
"Fine, I'll give you a mortgage, but you know I'll never love you like I loved the blonde, what's-her-name."
Martha sank back down again and felt her orgasm closing in on her. "So you fuck the ones you don't love, but don't fuck the ones you do love, is that it?" she asked, remembering previous conversations about Rose and Reinette and Sarah Jane.
"Pretty much," he answered with a grin.
"I think I prefer it if you don't love me then," she said with a gasp as she reached her climax. She came hard, her muscles clenching tightly around him and his hips jerked as he came too.
"Are you going to tell your friends about your unrequited love for me, then?" he asked once he could speak again.
Martha laughed, as she continued to squeeze her muscles around him, milking every last drop of his release. "My tragic affair with the alien who only shags the girls he doesn't love?" she asked.
"Isn't that more interesting than the other kind of affair?" he asked, laughing too.
"You see me as a tragic romantic heroine, then?" She reached out and untied his arms, then lay down, her head tucked under his chin.
"A tragic romantic heroine with a bondage kink," he agreed, wrapping his arms around her.
"Mm, I like the sound of that." She shifted her hips against him.
"Greedy too," he said sleepily.
"Oh you're a fine one to talk, Mr 'I'm an alien, I can go for hours' Smith." She lifted her head from his chest to look at his face and saw him smirking at her. "Rotten tease," she said, before leaning in to kiss him hard.
He slid a hand down her back and began kneading her bottom. "Something about pots and kettles springs to mind, Miss 'I'm your mistress and you come when I say' Jones."
Martha giggled, beginning to feel aroused again and aware that they were still joined.
Now
Martha opened her eyes abruptly, aware that she was aroused again now. She wondered if John Smith was having lunch with the other masters or if he was eating in his rooms. She hadn't thought to ask him that this morning. She checked the clock and saw she still had forty-five minutes before she had to start work again. She chewed her lip for a moment, then decided to go and see if he was in his rooms. If he wasn't, she'd just have to get herself off.
She hurried down the two flights of stairs and along to John Smith's rooms. She knocked quietly on his door.
"Come in."
She grinned and went inside.