DISCLAIMER: Do I really need to preface this with the obvious fact that I don't own Doctor Who? No money has been made from this humble fic.

WARNINGS: This starts out rough and continues along those lines. Contains mind (and body) control, slightly explicit sex, and non-con/rape themes. You have been warned. I accept no responsibility from here on out.

Rescue Me

I was about to be raped again, and I couldn't help but smile.

I don't mean that as a metaphor. I don't mean, "Although being raped is a terrible thing, I've somehow managed to find the funny side after so many times." I mean, I literally couldn't help but smile. I watched her walk in, a woman – I was surprised at that, I got so very few of them. And she didn't look like she'd need to pay for this, which meant she must be batshit insane – in her mid-forties with a piercing gaze, riotous blond hair and a suit that probably set her back a cool grand or so. She sauntered slowly towards me and I smiled. The sexiest smile you could imagine; the smile of a girl who wasn't just into "pay for play", but who wanted her, wanted to see those clothes hit the floor and fuck her until she passed out. I rolled my shoulders, letting my breasts jut out just a little, showing off my hard, aroused nipples through the thin purple lingerie. I said, "Hello," in a soft, breathy, kittenish voice. "I'm Sahara. It's nice to meet you."

And inside, like always, I was screaming, Fuck off! Fuck off and leave me alone, please, I am begging you, just please, they've done something to my mind, I'm not even named Sahara, because nobody's ever named fucking 'Sahara'! I'm Joanne, Joanne fucking Taggart, and I'm not a fucking hooker! None of it reached my lips. My muscles didn't even move a twitch out of place from their calculated seduction, any more than they ever did. I'd lost count of how many times I tried to stop myself from having sex with another stranger, how many times I tried to scratch 'HELP' into their backs or blink out 'call the police' in Morse code or take control of my tongue just long enough to say, "save me," but it never worked. Not any of it. I was a prisoner inside my own head, and nobody would ever know.

She looked at me with raised eyebrows. "It's nice to meet you, too," she said. That's what I heard with my ears. With my mind, I heard, So if you're not a hooker, Joanne, what are you doing in a brothel?

I shifted position, just enough that she could see the outline of my pussy in my oh-so-slightly damp panties. "Why don't you come over here and have a seat?" I asked. ...You-you can hear me? "Bed's big enough for two."

"Don't mind if I do." She sat down on the bed, close enough that she could probably feel the heat of my body through her clothes. Of course I can hear you. It's a bit like an icepick in my brain though, so I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't shout.

I loosened her tie. Then fucking help me! I thought, giving her a long, soulful kiss. Damn it, don't just let me sit there and let me French you, do something about this!

Two problems with that, Sweetie, she thought, responding to the kiss while running her fingers up and down my back, One, it's not easy. I've been investigating this place for weeks. They have a skilled telepath on staff here. I'm nearly certain there's more than one, if they did something this complex to you. Her tongue dueled with mine, and as I ran my hands over her clothed body I could feel her nipples stiffening under the fabric. Which means that helping you involves a potential fight.

What do you mean? I broke the kiss. "God, you're sexy." You really are. Though I'm sure you could feed a third-world country with that suit. And are you serious with those heels? "Why don't you let me help you get some of those clothes off, and we can get to know each other better?" Ugh. I need to shut up.

She shrugged the jacket from her delicate shoulders and slid it off the bed to the side. Why thank you, Sweetie. I do try to keep in shape. Never know when I have to run for my life. As for the outfit, I'm sure you're right, but I so rarely get the chance to dress up. Gotta have a little enjoyment now and then. "Sounds good to me," she said. And let me ask you a question: Do you know what I had to do to be with you tonight? What I had to pay?

I undid her buttons, one by one, with my right hand while my left hand massaged and explored her ever-more-exposed chest, undoing the front clasp of her bra as well. No clue. It's not like they share the take with me, or anything. I never leave the damn room. I eat a healthy diet to keep my body looking sexy, I exercise, I fuck, I sleep. When I'm not doing that, I stare at the ceiling, blinking. "You've got a great body, baby. Do you work out?" I think we've already gone over that. Sorry, I'm on a script. I realized what I'd just thought. Wait. Why the fuck am I apologizing to you? You're still raping me!

She sighed softly as my hands ran over her nipples. Yes, and I'm sorry about that. Paid a thousand dollars for the privilege of doing so. And what an horrid privilege it is. You're a thousand dollar-an-hour whore, Joanne. Well, you're not, but 'Sahara' is. I finished undoing the buttons, and she slid the shirt off, taking the bra with it. You're probably costing them about twenty dollars a day to keep, and you're making them maybe ten grand a night, maybe more. And if I try to take you out of here right now, they'll try to stop me. And I don't know how powerful they are yet. That's not a situation I'm looking to go into half-cocked. I honestly didn't even know what I would find when I walked in here. I knew these bastards took innocent women with no other option than the streets and whored them out nearly against there will, but this— I need time, Joanne. I need to find out more. Then I can get you out.

I kissed her again, letting our embrace carry us back into a horizontal position on the bed. You don't have to take me out of here yourself! I thought with a mixture of anger, fear, hope, pleading and panic in my mental voice. Tell somebody! There can't be just you, right? I mean, I know the cops can't help. Most of the force have been in here already, anyway. But...there's got to be someone you can tell! Or just undo this...this mind-thing, and I'll make my own way out! I kept sliding my hands over her chest, tweaking her nipples gently. I'd noticed her breath coming a little faster and in shorter pants.

You probably wouldn't make it twenty feet out of the room, and you definitely wouldn't make it out of the building. "Mmm, that's nice. Don't stop." I'd stopped kissing her lips, and was kissing and licking her breasts instead. I don't know that they'd decide it was worth it to go after me for freeing you, but it sure as hell wouldn't help you any. And it's not just you here, you know?

I would have cried, if I could. "I'll do anything you want me to, lover," I said seductively. My hand was already down by her waist, unbuckling her belt. Please, I'm begging you. At least, I mean...if you're not going to help me, at least don't…don't keep touching me. Please don't make me do this again. PLEASE.

Oh Sweetie, her hands faltered for a moment before continuing to run up and down my sides. I-I can't do anything right now. There are cameras in here. Unnoticeable to the untrained eye. Or any eye, actually. I scanned for them ahead of time. I hate that I'm doing this, but I knew I'd have to if I wanted to talk to one of their whores. I'm a telepath, or something close to one. I can project my thoughts into your mind and hear what you're thinking as well, so our conversation can go undetected. However, if I were to forgo the sex— they're already on their guard about me. Her thoughts were tinged in a deep sadness that I was hard-pressed not to believe as I unzipped her fly. Think about this, Sweetie: a woman like me actually paying for sex. In a normal circumstance, I wouldn't need to. And I'm aware that they know I've been asking questions around town. The money I paid for you is nothing. I just needed to know what I'm dealing with. To leave now could be suicide for us both.

"Mmm, baby..." I said in a half-moan, slipping my hand into her pants and rubbing the outside of her silk panties, "look at what I've found. Soooo wet." She raised her hips as I pulled her pants off. No! I don't believe you! You're crazy! You're just one of them! Testing me, toying with me! It's happened before. Don't think I'm falling for it again you bitch! I've done this too long not to know better. If there is any fucking justice in this world, you will be hit by a fucking bus the second you walk out of here! You absolute piece of shit! I could probably have gone on all night in that vein, but her next thought stopped me cold.

And as shitty a person as you think I am, I'm still the only hope you have of ever seeing the outside of this room. "Ooh, that feels so good," she said as I pressed my fingers lightly to the crotch of her panties and ran them up and down over the wetness as she spread her legs a bit more. But the look it her eyes... I mentally gasped. There was hurt there. And hatred, which I got the feeling was directed inward. It certainly gave me reason to pause.

"Glad you like it, lover," I said, rubbing and stroking and watching as the area grew wetter still, teasing her for long moments without touching and then pressing a bit harder around her clit. ...I thought you said you couldn't do it. I was suddenly petrified and elated. The first hope in...I didn't even know how long I'd been here, it could have been months, it felt like years, but this was the first time I'd ever been able to communicate with anybody, and it might have been tenuous, pathetic hope based on contact with a person I didn't know from Eve, but it was still better than no hope at all. I couldn't lose it. And the haunting look in her eyes, though very brief, still tugged at me.

She squirmed on the bed, breathing hard. No, she thought. I said there were problems involved, and it wasn't a situation I was going into with blinders. She wriggled her hips as I slowly pulled down the panties. That's not the same thing as thinking it couldn't be done. That was my whole purpose for investigating in the first place. I won't lie, it will be tricky. But I think that with some time and effort – maybe a lot of time and effort – I might be able to pull it off.

"Mmmmm...you're so tight, baby," I said, finally sliding two fingers into her dripping pussy. Why the fuck do I even bother to say that? I thought as I heard myself speak, my former disgruntlement returning. It's the same when I tell all the guys how big they are. I mean, come on, it's not like guys don't know how long their dicks are! Especially the last guy. He was five inches. It's not the worst I've ever seen in this room, but God, if you were really well-hung you wouldn't be going to a hooker! Does any guy ever buy that shit?

No, I heard the smirk in her mental voice, but it's nice to be complimented. I'd certainly prefer that than telling me it's like you could throw a hotdog down a hallway. She bucked her hips up, just a little. Now, if you're finished insulting the male population's manhood, can we get back to business? I do only have an hour, after all. The sooner, the better, yeah?

I slowly inserted a third finger, twisting my hand slightly, then pulling out to suck on them sensually. 'Business'? What do you mean, 'business'? I thought you said...oh, no. Fucking no, please...Talk faster. You said you wished I didn't have to do this, so just hurry up the damn interview then! You're just taking your damn time while I am forced to pleasure you. I'm still not convinced you don't actually want this. That you're drawing it out on pur-

It's not like that! she yelled into my mind, as I continued to move my tongue enticingly between each finger. It really was like an icepick to the brain. I'm taking a pretty considerable risk here, she thought in a calmer tone. And I don't care about that. I really don't. But I refuse to be stupid about this. Just talking to you, I'm mapping your mind right now, seeing what's been changed and how. And because your body has been rewired for sex, it is necessary that I see what parts of your brain are affected. You clearly still have your mind. So that's one reason I can't leave. The other, I already explained. And honestly, they'll know something is up if I just sit here with a woman who has a one-track mind for sex. 'Sahara' is not known for her conversational skills. These guys are major players, Sweetie. The stakes can get very high, very fast. I have my safeguards, but I won't pretend that there's not still the small chance that I'll be caught and put in the very same position as you and countless others. So here's how it's going to work: I am taking this risk to get you out of here. Just you, at first. And you will help me. Unfortunately, 'til I've found a way to undo this, the sex is necessary. And I know how loathsome that may sound to you, but think of it this way: You can either have it with me, or with the next guy who comes in here. And the next, and the next...

"Oh, baby," I said, "I wanna taste that gorgeous, wet pussy of yours..." I was so grateful to no longer hear my words as I lowered my mouth to her sex. Like the strange woman said, they didn't exactly program me to be a great conversationalist. What about ethics? Human decency? You say you're trying to help and you seem smart enough about this stuff, so can't you figure out another way? I'm a prisoner getting raped at least ten times a day. Going with you just means I'll only have one rapist.

"Oh, yes, darling. Like that," she said, tangling her fingers in my hair. I understand that you must have been here a long time. And your still so young. I get what it's like to be fucked with. Held prisoner and not able to make your own choices. Joanne, I get it. But I really am offering you the safest, best alternative. Think about your situation. I could just take you and do with you as I want. You'd have no choice. Your body is hard-wired to please. But here I am, explaining what's happening. Trying to earn your trust. And the sex…the sex won't be all bad, I promise. I can make it good for you as well. "Ohh..."

You're good. I'll give you that, I allowed as I continued to lick and swirl my tongue, her juices covering my chin. But I still go from being their whore to your whore. I will 'eventually' be free, but you've given me no set time. You could drag this on as long as you want. And there's still the sex. I haven't gotten pleasure from it in the longest time. Barely even when I was free. What are the upsides to that, exactly? How could you ever make this good for me?

She tangled her hands loosely in my hair. I could feel the light scratch of her nails on my scalp as her fingers tensed and flexed, almost as if she was forcing herself not to push my face further into her. I could barely breathe as it was. Duration, for one. They will probably keep you hear 'til you're no longer useful, in one way or another. And do you think they'll turn you lose after? That's why I'm here in the first place. Older women seeming to commit suicide, all with ties to this place. They will order your death. I don't want this to last any longer than it has to. I will not draw this out with you. And as soon as I've unlocked your mind, you are free. I'll even set you up wherever you want, give you a nice life. Like it or not, it's a better deal than you've got now.

Then there are the fringe benefits. You don't like sex. Don't want it, even on your own terms. She let out a loud moan as I circled my tongue around her clit, bringing my right hand up and inserting two fingers again.

Like what? I thought incredulously.

I'll show you. Here... "...stop licking and fuck me." I was surprised, for a moment, to hear her actually say the words. But the part of me that was actually controlling my body didn't care why she said it. An order was an order. I let my mouth slide off of her and began to change position but she maneuvered my body into a traditional sixty-nine, ripping off my barely-there panties with little effort. I let out a soft, breathy gasp as my head dropped back down to her pussy, as though I'd never tasted anything so magnificent. I groaned inwardly; not as bad as 'you're so tight, baby', but still obnoxious. Then I felt her lips and tongue on my own sex and I really did gasp, inwardly as much as outwardly. I suppose I wasn't too surprised. A lot of the clients – men and the few woman – liked this position. However, most people rarely saw to my own need. And that suited me just fine. I didn't want their attentions. So I just tried to shut out what the woman was doing to me as my body continued to go at her in earnest, just like I'd done dozens of other times...

But this time, it actually felt...good. Normally, I was just too fucking traumatized to feel anything but shame and humiliation, if I felt anything other than pain, but something about what she was doing to me, it was actually getting me hot.

It's because I'm mind-linking with you, she thought as my hips pushed forward, seeking more of her hot, wet mouth on autopilot. You're feeling everything I'm feeling. My pleasure's leaking into your brain. I'd do that every time we had sex. Like I said, I don't want to hurt you. I want to get you away from all this as soon as possible. But while this is still necessary, I want you to enjoy yourself, at least on some level.

She was building quickly. It was getting hard to think, now. For both of us. I had to admire how much discipline she had to send thoughts so clearly when she was this close.

You're very…talented…Sweetie, she thought, moaning out loud. This can't all be the work of your programmers. "Ohhh," she gasped. Ohhh, she thought. I could hear her mind narrowing down into a point, into that spot where all that existed was just that tiny little supernova of pleasure waiting to erupt, and then she was coming, and I felt the first orgasm I'd had since I walked into this room.

I'll be back for you, Joanne. Don't lose hope. she'd thought as she left the room, kissing me once more. That was a while ago. I don't know how long; like I said, I don't have any way of telling time here. I'm just lying on the bed, blinking. I don't know if she's fighting the battle to end all battles against evil telepaths, whether she's winning, losing, negotiating to buy me, being brainwashed into sucking dicks, getting help, having a good laugh with her buddies who run the place about the lies she told me...or fuck, maybe just walking away and forgetting about me. No. Not the last two. Definitely not. As much as I fought to not believe her, the look she gave me earlier said it all. One way or another, she'd fight for me. And for all the others imprisoned here. I just needed to believe she'd make it out of this. I had to believe that she'd rescue me.

THE END

A/N: Or is it?
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