Rolled Cuffs

An evening on the TARDIS goes exactly the way they both like it.


“Undress for me,” he said.

Clara was not usually immediately obedient, no matter what they agreed to ahead of time, but she was this time. This meant, if he had judged her correctly, that she wanted deep submission, not a struggle for power or punishment. That was fine by him. Her submission willingly granted to him was, if he admitted it, the spice he liked best. Though a spot of her reddened arse under his hand wasn’t at all disagreeable. Not at all.

So pretty she was, undressing herself methodically, so demure, almost, the way she looked down when she folded her shirt neatly and laid it on top of the pile of her clothing. So delightful, shimmying out of her panties and laying them on top of the pile. So coy, stepping into her heels again once she was nude. So shy, folding her arms over herself and letting her head fall so that her hair hid her face.

“None of that,” he said. “Clasp your hands at the back of your neck. Good. Head up. Clara, my Clara, how pretty you are when you show yourself off like this.”

And she was pretty, even with those eyes downcast, with her lovely breasts, her curved hips, her parted lips. His pretty Clara. He ran his hand down her back, over her rump, then around and up. He cupped her breast for a moment, then pinched the nipple between his fingers until she gasped. A little touch of roughness, that’s what Clara needed, just the barest edge of it. Though she did like to live dangerously. Speaking of which–

“There’s a planet I could take you to where I could lead you on a leash just like this, so everyone could look at you. Would you like that?”

Clara blushed ferociously but didn’t answer him. He put two fingers under her chin and lifted it.

“Would you like that?” he asked again, and this time he put an edge into the question.

“Yes, Doctor,” she said. Her blush deepened and spread down her neck.

“Something to look forward to.”

She met his gaze then, as if she were uncertain he’d meant it. He nodded to her and she sucked in a sharp breath. He saw the excitement flash across her face. That was the beauty of Clara. Her face was so expressive. Everything that she was feeling was visible in those eyes, those trembling lips. He leaned down and kissed those lips. They parted immediately for him. Sweet, lovely Clara. He’d do anything for her. If she’d wanted it the other way around he’d be stripping himself for her, even now, but she wanted this, she wanted his bonds on her wrists, and once she’d felt safe enough to admit this to him he thrown himself into the role with delight.

He stepped away from her abruptly. She swayed toward him, lips still parted, but caught herself in time. Good. She was already starting to melt for him. Now to make her burn.

He went to his dresser. He undid the topmost shirt stud and removed it. He undid his cuff links and stored them in their box. He turned up his sleeves deliberately, carefully, neatly. Bare forearms, bare hands, save for his rings. He could see her watching him in the mirror, head turned. It was perhaps disobedience, since she hadn’t been given permission to look, but he rather liked that she was so focused on him. He did, after all, hold her in the palm of his hand tonight, pain and pleasure his to dispense as he wished.

He walked over to his armchair and laid his hand on its back. “Come here, my dear.”

Most obedient, she was tonight, bending herself over the back of the chair without complaint, though she had to be a little afraid of what he might do next. He paced around behind her and tapped her bare ankle with a boot.

“Wider, please,” he said, though her thighs were already parted. She obeyed again and spread her thighs wider. It was good, he had found, to give her something more to submit to, no matter how obedient she was being, to bring her to the edge of discomfort. To remind her how naked she was.

He’d been uncertain, once upon a time, about her habit of waxing her cunt bare, but he had to admit it was lovely at times like these. She was completely exposed to him. He could see quite clearly how aroused she was.

He told her so, in detail, and was rewarded by the sight of her growing wetter and more open, just from listening to him. He rested a hand on the small of her back. She flinched, and he smiled to himself. Not tonight. Perhaps next time. This time, he had a different trial in mind for her. He pressed himself against her and let her feel how hard he was inside his trousers. Rough wool on bare buttocks, so delicious when he’d spanked them first.

“Where would you like me to take you tonight? Your mouth? Your arse? Your cunt?”

A little shudder at his language, at the burr that had deepened on those last words. Her voice was husky with arousal when she finally answered him. “Wherever you want, Doctor.” The correct answer, the answer he had taught her to give, though sometimes he would press further to discover what she longed for most. Not tonight, however. He already knew what he wanted to do tonight.

He undid his trousers enough to take himself out. He rubbed his cock between her buttocks, let her tighten up, let her think he was contemplating taking her there. It was tempting, for she was wonderfully tight and the feeling of his cock in her arse seemed to wrench open something in her that she otherwise kept closed off, but not tonight. Tonight, her cunt, so wet, so open to him. He need hold nothing back when he took her there.

Inside, all the way inside, as deep as he could go, yes, so good, so good to hear her moan under him. He took her hard, fast, taking his own pleasure with no regard to hers, but she was moaning under him anyway.

He stopped. Clara whimpered under him in protest.

“Did you want something?”


“What do you want?”

“I want to come.”

“Oh, do you. How much?”

“So much. Doctor, please!”

He let his forefinger rest on her clit, just barely. “You want this?”


“Enough to beg me?”

“Yes! I’m begging. I’ll do anything. Just let me come.”

He let his fingers move against her and she moaned. He stilled again. “Anything?”


Time to bring her off. He rubbed her almost cruelly hard, leaned himself over her back, and whispered into her ear: “When I take you to that planet, I’m going to make you spread yourself out like this in the pleasure market, voluntarily, no cuffs, and make you come while they all watch.”

That was it, that was enough, she was coming under him, crying out and pumping her hips without control. The Doctor gritted his teeth and rode it out, held himself off just barely, she was so wild under him. He let it fade, let her catch her breath, then he took her again, hard and fast, his fingers on her relentless. This time she screamed when she came. He spent himself inside her and God, it was good, so good.

Afterward, she curled up with him in the armchair, half on his lap, still naked, debauched, her thighs still damp with her arousal and his seed, just as she liked it. He undid the buttons of his waistcoat and reached for the book on the history of Kthlee semi-sentient sculpture he’d been reading. One hand for the book, the other hand free to fondle her while she slept, just as he liked it.

Rolled Cuffs

Twelve/Clara general

1325 words; reading time 5 min.

first posted here

on 2015/04/04

tags: p:twelve/clara, f:doctor-who, c:clara-oswald, c:twelfth-doctor, genre:kink, c:sub!clara, c:dom!twelve, kink:dom/sub, kink:clothed-male-naked-female, kink:cmnf