Visions of The Crystal Feast. Day 4

The fourth of our thirteen Thirteens made by the lovely Becsantus: Madame Dee.

Older, wiser, but certainly no less fun-loving, this Doctor left the hero game after losing her Tardis and decided to enjoy this regeneration rather than go out looking for trouble. Spending decades on earth enjoying herself before settling down in Sheffield for a quiet retirement, she became the owner and madame of a 'perfectly legitimate' burlesque house. Offering sanctuary to alien refugees, as well as 'entertainment' for those who came through her doors, eventually led to her being investigated by the Sheffield Police, notably one PC Yasmin Khan. Madame Dee instantly took a liking to the young officer, and offered her a special arrangement, in exchange for a little discretion about her less than legal operations.

-o-o-o-

“Oh God!” Yaz yelped as she watched the teenaged Doctor guide her own teenaged self’s ass back onto a new cock sticking into their gloryhole. “This… this is perverse!”

“It’s fascinating to think how much a regeneration can alter someone’s personality.” The Doctor mused beside her, before starting and blushing. “Er, yeah… yeah perverse.”

“Doctor please, there must be some way out of here.” Yaz pleaded, “You always have a plan.”

“I do have a plan.” The Doctor pouted, “You just don’t like it.”

Yaz scowled and turned back to her, seeing the blonde nibble on a finger as both of their petite variants began bouncing their tight little asses on the cocks sticking through the walls, holding hands and kissing one another sweetly as they did. “Stop it!” she snapped, giving The Doctor a rough shove.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Stop being a pervert!”

“Stop being such a baby!” The Doctor shot back. “It’s just sex, you humans are so squeamish about the strangest things! If you don’t like it, let me put you into a trance, but this is a very fascinating opportunity to learn more about the regeneration process and I’m going to make the most of it!”

“I’m not a baby, you’re just behaving like… like a slut!” Yaz hissed. “That’s us! That’s me! I don’t want you creeping on me having sex!”

“She’s not you, none of them are, they just look like you.” The Doctor reminded her sternly. “If that upsets you then you need to get some perspective. There’s an infinite number of alternate Yasmin Khans that do far worse than enjoy a little kinky sex. Versions that are rapists, murderers, cannibals, just be thankful we’re not stuck watching you eat babies for fun!”

“Stop it!”

“No, you’re being childish and taking out your frustration on me.” The Doctor said firmly. “I’m not going to let you throw a tantrum.”

‘When The Doctor retired from her heroic life, she found many ways to occupy her time. Decades and centuries of enjoying herself led to many discoveries about herself, and when she finally settled down, she employed all she’d learned to forge a new life for herself, and those who needed her.’

“Oh for god’s sake.” Yaz groaned.

-o-o-o-

“Alright Yaz.” PC Yasmin Khan muttered to herself as she walked up the stone path to the large, ornate house looming above her. “Nothing to be afraid of, it’s an open and shut case… nail this and no one will treat you like a kid anymore. It’ll be the big leagues for sure.”

She took a deep breath and straightened her cap before pressing the buzzer on the dark red door.

There was no reply for a few moments, before shuffling footsteps became audible and the door swung open. A tall, blue-skinned woman with three breasts stuffed loosely into a low-cut bodice and a coiling tail sticking out of her skirts appeared, looking her up and down with curiosity.

Yaz blinked, stunned, and shook her head as she took in the woman standing in the doorway again. She wasn’t blue, she didn’t have three tits, and she didn’t have a tail, she was just a pretty, slender Indian woman with an expectant look on her face.

Yaz cleared her throat. “Ahem, Officer Khan, Hallamshire Police, I’d like to speak to the owner please.”

“Police?” the woman said softly, “Madame is in trouble?”

“Just get her please miss.” Yaz sighed.

“Oh, alright… why do you not come inside and wait in warm?” the woman sighed, opening the door wider and waving her inside. “I fetch Madame, she come and speak you about what you need.”

“Thank you.” Yaz said slowly, watching as the Indian woman wandered off through a bead curtain to where music was throbbing. She took a calming breath and made sure her cap was in place again, glancing up and down the walls. There were photos and portraits of all the girls who worked at the club, and almost all of them looked foreign.

Le Mari Jaloux was an exclusive burlesque club that had been operating in the city for decades, it had a reputation for being classy and expensive, but also providing things far seedier and far less legal than it advertised. The Police had been looking into it for drug-dealing, sex-work, even human-trafficking, for years now, but it was Yaz who had finally gotten the tip they needed to formally investigate. A strange half-naked middle eastern woman had been seen wandering about the city speaking a language no one could understand, and when she’d been met by the police it had been found she had no documentation at all. She’d escaped from police custody, but Yaz had gotten word she’d been seen returning to Le Mari Jaloux, and so she had come to confirm it.

If the Madame of this place was involved with smuggling illegal immigrants into the UK for sex-work, let alone all the other things she was suspected of, then the case would make Yaz’s career.

“Well hello there officer.” A soft, smooth voice cooed, knocking her out of her thoughts. She turned to see an older woman in a flowing red dress smiling at her. She was in her late fifties, or maybe early sixties, but was stunningly beautiful. Her curves were full and firm, her face was gently lined, and her eyes sparkled with a mischievously youthful light. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Yaz swallowed, tearing her eyes away from the Madame’s heavy bust to her smiling face. “Officer Khan, Hallamshire Police, have you seen this woman before?” She held out an image of the runaway.

“Of course, Syllysanasitirix is one of my employees.” The Madame smiled cheerfully. “Why do you ask?”

Yaz blinked at the bizarre name before shaking her head. “She was being detained for a count of indecent exposure when she fled police custody. We had already searched our databases for her identity, but she has no documentation whatsoever. If you know her whereabouts I must ask you to tell me so that she can be placed under arrest, and if you are unable to provide any evidence of a work visa or proof of citizenship I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to come with me to the station.”

The madame’s smile didn’t falter. “Oh there’s no need for that. come along, Syl’s just having her dinner with the other girls. You can speak to her yourself.”

Yaz pursed her lips as the Madame sashayed away, huge rear wiggling in her dress almost hypnotically, and followed her deeper into the club. She blushed uncomfortably as they walked around the edge of the main stage area, where a beautiful blonde woman was dancing in nothing but her underwear to a throbbing, crooning music Yaz couldn’t quite focus on no matter how she tried.

“I trust you have a proper licence to be operating this establishment ma’am?”

“Oh of course.” The Madame laughed. “And please, no ‘ma’am.’ Call me Dee.”

“I’ll need to see those licenses ma’am.” Yaz said firmly.

They descended a small spiral staircase and came into a large lounge where a dozen women were lounging about in various states of undress. Yaz flushed darkly as she saw the Indian woman who had greeted her snuggling with a plump ginger girl on a plush loveseat.

“Syl, would you come here a moment?” the Madame called, waving to the woman on Yaz’s photo. “This nice lady would like to ask you some questions.”

“Have done something wrong?” the woman asked, padding across the room on bare feet until she was almost nose-to-nose with the Madame. “Trouble for you?”

“No dear, nothing like that.” The Madame purred, turning her to face Yaz. “Now, you had some questions?”

“Miss are you aware that running from police custody is a crime?” Yaz scowled, determined not to get distracted by Syl, or any of the other women’s, lack of clothes.

“What’s a police?” Syl frowned, turning to the Madame.

“Law enforcement,” Dee hummed, “The people who put you in that car, whom you ran away from?”

“Oh,” Syl frowned. “I not know that. Just strange people put me in transport and throw blankets on me. Very scary. Very confusing.”

“You were walking down West Street topless miss.” Yaz frowned. “That’s indecent exposure.”

“If I may miss Khan?” the Madame interrupted.

“Officer Khan.”

“Officer.” The Madame smiled. “I think what we have here is just an innocent cultural misunderstanding. Hardly something to get worked up about.”

“Oh, and where exactly are you from, miss?” Yaz asked, keeping her eye on Syl.

“Varraxinikal IV.”

Yaz blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Officer, perhaps this might make the situation a little clearer.” The Madame sighed, producing an odd metal tube from her cleavage and pressing it. A crystal on the tip lit up orange and there was an odd buzzing, and suddenly Yaz was not standing opposite a confused middle-eastern woman, but a confused snake, with fat nippleless breasts and wide yellow eyes.

She shrieked and darted backwards, tripping over something behind her and falling to the floor. Before she could get back up, a lion and the blue-skinned woman she’d seen before were huddled above her, looking down in concern.

“Here you go cub, up we get.” The liongirl purred, hoisting her up to her feet and patting her shoulders.

“What is going on!?”

“Officer Khan, my name is The Doctor.” The Madame smiled gently. “I am an alien, and so are my employees. This place is a sanctuary for interstellar refugees of all species, hence why they are not on any of your records. I know this must be very confusing, but all you’ll need to do when you get back to your station is contact UNIT and they’ll clear all this up for you, alright?”

“I… I…” Yaz stammered as she felt the Snake-woman slither behind her and gently rest her palms on her shoulders, her tail coiling around Yaz’s ankle. “Oh God…”

-o-o-o-

“Miss khan, we do need to close up at some point tonight.” Madame Dee sighed, shaking her head at the sordid scene in her lounge as she returned from sending her customers home upstairs.

PC Yasmin Khan was naked and sweat-licked, straddling the face of Trrishna, the Lion-like dancing girl, who was greedily lapping at her slit. Syl was making out with the young officer, her forked tongue dancing over Yaz’s as the girl trembled and shook, her arms pinned at her sides by Syl’s coiling body. Yaz was blindfolded by her own tie, and stared blindly towards where The Doctor’s voice had come from.

“H… how long have I… ahn… been here?”

“Three hours.” Madame Dee chuckled, gently stroking Yaz’s cheek and bringing her heaving breast close to Yaz’s lips. “Open wide.”

In an instant Yaz was suckling and squeezing at the Madame’s tit like a starving newborn, quivering with bliss as Syl’s lips began toying with her ear, and Trrishna buried her tongue deep inside her pussy once again.

“Good girl… there we go.” Madame Dee crooned as Yaz buried her face in soft, pale titmeat. “Such a sweet little thing, aren’t you?”

“Pretty thing.” Syl hissed in agreement.

“Tasty too.” Avarrix, the blue-skinned, three-breasts woman who had welcomed Yaz added, pressing her udders up against Yaz’s free cheek. “Scent is… delectable.”

“Mlah… more… more mommy.” Yaz pleaded. “More please mommy.”

Madame Dee chuckled. “How can I say no to this adorable little face?” she sighed and pulled away from Yaz, who mewed in disappointment as the huge soft tits she’d been worshipping were taken away from her. “Ladies, why don’t we retire to my bedroom and enjoy our new friend there. Ava, would you be a dear and lock up?”

“Yes, madame.” Avarrix bowed, hurrying away towards the stairs.

Madame Dee smiled and helped Syl lift Yaz’s bound and helpless body upwards, the snake-woman bearing her towards the bedroom snug in her tight coils.

“What a nice young girl.”