Title: Doubles, Anyone?
By: ninefics
Pairing: Jack/other
Kink Bingo: Double Penetration (one hole)
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who. Sort of.
Word count: 1098
Spoilers: No.
Character(s): Captain Jack Harkness. Sort of.
Warnings: NC-17. PWP. Also, bonus tentacles and alien sex.
Author's Note: Hot? I don't particularly think so. Creepy? Yes. Yes, I think this turned out creepy.


Funny thing... last time I was sentenced to death, I ordered four hyper-vodkas for my breakfast. All a bit of a blur after that. Woke up in bed with both my executioners. Hmm, lovely couple. They stayed in touch!

- Captain Jack Harkness, "The Doctor Dances"




"Really, guys, I didn't think it would be that big of a deal," the man said even though he had no idea if they were listening to him or not. "I mean, I sold your leader a Synthesis-Gauss Healer because I thought it was a Synthesis-Gauss Healer. I had no way of knowing it was actually an Iron-Launching Detonator. And his arm was already growing back nicely when he sentenced me to death, so where's the harm? Execution just seems so extreme. I mean, we're all civilized... people sort of... right?"

"Sssssilenthhhhhhhhh," one of them said. The voice, when pitched and slowed to be heard by the human ear, was sibilant, almost purring. The man (who would one day be known as Jack Harkness, but was currently calling himself Frank Palmer) felt himself getting an erection despite the four hyper-vodkas he'd downed as his last meal.

"Okay. How about this instead?" He slurred. "A condemned man gets a final request, right?" He slung an arm around one of the two beings that flanked him. "And I'm requesting one last screw." His head bobbled drunkenly to the other being and he flashed his biggest, whitest, toothiest grin. "With both of you."

There was rapid conversation between the two creatures while Frank laughed (giggled, really) and swayed from one soft shoulder to another.

"That is agreeable," the other spoke. The words hissed and vibrated in Frank's ear and straight down to the small of his back, where it pulsed like electricity.

The Iomki — his guards and executioners — were roughly humanoid and looked a bit like bodybuilders, except their bodies seemed to be made of a soft foam instead of muscle. They had control over the density of the foam and it could become hard as a rock when they wanted. The large bruise on Frank's face was testimony to that. They were also identical, as if pressed from the same mould (which they might have been, Frank reckoned).

"So," Frank said, his own "s" sound drawing out in an unconscious mimicry of their speech, "what happens next?"

The Iomki restructured themselves, patterning their appearance based on what they knew of Frank's species. It would be unfair to call them shapeshifters; they were never able to completely take on the appearance of something or someone else, but they could adapt as the situation warranted. Their skin never lost its iridescent orange tint and they weren't capable of producing natural-looking hair.

The new forms were androgynous. To be precise, they were hermaphrodites. Each Iomki had developed small, firm breasts and an obvious, erect penis. Their faces had become more feminine. Their mouths were full and generous and Frank kissed one while the other formed delicate fingers that stripped away his clothes.

The Iomki's tongue flexed oddly and was almost too thick for Frank's comfort. It seemed to understand this and reconfigured things slightly. Thinner. Smaller. Almost snakelike in the way it flicked across Frank's lips and teeth. It was, he found, a major turn-on.

The alien cock in his hand felt more like a sex toy. There was no give. It offered no reaction other than the motion of the Iomki's hips. Still, the Iomki was responding vocally if not physically, and the second being was pressed against Frank's bare back, stroking his cock, and Frank was certainly responding to that.

The Iomki behind Frank moved just a little and pressed its cock into Frank, forgetting that humans weren't as pliant as Iomki. The sudden penetration and Frank's general drunkenness made him stagger and nearly fall.

"No, I'm fine, really," he said although no one had asked. He pressed back against the Iomki, relaxing and getting into the rhythm of the Iomki's thrusts. Frank stroked the other Iomki in the same pattern and rested his head on that Iomki's shoulder.

He became aware of a change in the size of the Iomki fucking him. It was no longer filling him. Looking back over his shoulder he said "I'm okay now. Really. You don't have..." Then he realised that the alien cock in his hand was also changing. It was much longer, thinner, and flatter.

Frank gave his trademark smile and said to the Iomki facing him "Lie down on your back. Trust me."

One Iomki on its back. Frank on hands and knees over it. The second Iomki behind Frank, its hands resting lightly on Frank's thighs. Both Iomki had converted their cocks into something like stiff ribbons. Long enough and flexible enough to reach their goal, slender enough that both could enter quite easily with only a little guidance from the Iomki kneeling behind Frank.

The penetration was almost undetectable. There was only the slightest ghost of pressure, and that was mostly due to the fingers easing the twin cocks in. Frank exhaled and relaxed. "Okay. Go."

The Iomki flexed and wriggled. The cocks expanded, pushing deeper, spreading Frank wider until his vision grew hazy and his breathing was little more than desperate grunts. Then they changed their rhythm.

The Iomki under him would push in just as the one behind would pull back. It would pull back when the other pushed in. Their speed was increasing. Frank was certain he was going to pass out. He thought he might even have a heart attack, and wouldn't that just be perfect. Death by fucking. Probably not what the Iomki had planned for his method of execution, but if you had to die, it was really the best way to go.

They were hitting his prostate again and again. One of them adjusted their structure again. It felt like a fist was inside Frank, twisting and flexing. Undulating, while the other moved like a piston. It was too much. Frank bit his tongue until it bled and shuddered through an orgasm that left him limp and breathless.

"If you're going to execute me, now would be a good time," he murmured. And then he passed out.

-----

Frank woke up several hours later, surprised to find he was in a warm, soft bed, nestled between the two Iomki guards who should have executed him. The one on his left turned to face him. "Free to go," it hissed.

"What about my execution?"

"We will tell them we disposed of the body already. No one will question."

Frank kissed the Iomki and slipped from the bed to find his clothes. He left without another word.

He genuinely liked this race and he had been sorry the con had gone so wrong. It had all worked out in the end, though.

Pun intended.