Null Suit Adventures: Speedy Delivery
By Musuko

I sometimes wonder how CKC is able to turn a profit. Oh sure, I know the order books are bloated with the names of the well-connected and the wealthy, and there is no shortage of perverts out there willing to put money in Musuko’s pocket in exchange for his goodies.
	But...is this really profitable? I stroke the rubber between my fingers. CKC’s finest, folding away into a cardboard box to be delivered to the home of a badly-connected and dirt poor student. Five thousand quid’s worth of technology with no financial return. Madness! Still, I don’t balance the books. I just do my job. Put it in the box and deliver it, they tell me. So, in the box it goes, and out the door I go, pulling my cap neatly in place atop my head. Speedy Delivery Couriers it says. A joke, I think. I mean, who the hell assigns a sloth to be a courier?
	Fuckers. Grumble grumble. I put the radio on in the van and trundle out to join the real world. I keep the box on the seat beside me, and I keep my paw on the box when I’m not changing gear. I definitely don’t want to lose this box. Think of the repercussions if some other company, or, heaven forbid, the government, got hold of some CKC nanotech? It would be a disaster! Why, they might even use it for curing diseases or some other such nonsense! I find myself laughing. Who knows, maybe CKC already does that? Hey, perhaps the kink thing is just a front all along? Maybe the real money is in curing cancer for rich fuckers. Eh, who cares.
	I glance at the box again. One Null suit. It shouldn’t even be outside the confines of CKC at all, let alone going to a customer. A customer who’s not even paying, no less.
	Off the motorway, following the satnav. Nearly there.
	One more glance at the box. Scary thing that. Still...the end result is pleasing, or so I’ve heard. Never got the chance to make use of a Null myself. They don’t get let loose in the services section.
	I drum my fingers on the cardboard and lazily swing the van into the carpark outside a block of flats.
	Hmm…
	I park up and pull the handbrake. The engine dies away to silence. For a while I stare out at nothing in particular, thinking...pondering.
	“Well…it’s not like they would know.”
	I feel the smile spread across my muzzle. And that’s how I know I’m going to do it. Hell, it’d be just like a porno! I don’t even care what this kid is like. Not like it matters once the suit is on. I run through it in my head. So easy. Step by step
	I step down from the van and lock it, the box tucked neatly under my arm. I make my way through into the entrance to the flats, trudge my way up two floors.
	And ring the doorbell. Number 12.
	The door opens on its chain.
	And a fluff of blue fur surrounding a blue eye appears at the crack.
	“Yes?”
	“Alec Wah?” Strange name.
	“Who are you?”
	“I have a delivery for you.” I lift the box into view.
	“I didn’t order anything.”
	I know he didn’t order anything, but I frown and check the manifest label anyway, putting on the show. “From LustyFox Toys?” His eye widens. Gotcha! The door slams shut and I hear the rattle of the chain. Very slowly, the door opens again.
	At first I think girl. But then I remember his voice, and his name...and my eyes flit to the form-hugging boxers he’s wearing (and the only thing he’s wearing!) and I reaffirm that this girly, curvy-hipped, dainty little creature is, despite all appearances, a boy. For a few moments I struggle to identify his species. When it finally clicks, I struggle not to laugh. A red panda with bright blue fur. How wonderfully weird! I figure it must be fur dye. From the look of the chaotic mess of his hair I suspect I’ve just woken him. It’s ten in the morning on a tuesday! Damn students.
	I cock a lopsided smile and unhook the electronic signature doohickey from my belt. “I just need you to sign here.”
	He darts his head around the doorframe, glancing down the corridor, then takes it from me and scrawls a squiggle onto the screen. His paw reaches out expectantly, palm up.
	“I need you to check the contents first.”
	“What?”
	I tilt the box towards him and point to some unreadably small writing on the manifest label. “It’s policy. You need to visually inspect the contents in my presence, else I can’t complete the delivery.”
	Oh I’m such a good liar!
	“Since when? I’ve never had to do that before.”
	“It’s a new policy, to ensure everything is delivered to you in perfect condition. I could open it for you if you-”
	“No!” He claps his paw over his mouth. Such a high-pitched squeak! What’s the matter, Alec? Think it’s some giant purple dildo you ordered and then forgot about? Don’t want the neighbours to see? Don’t want them to know you’re a slutty little pervert with a drawer full of rubber and bondage somewhere in your bedroom? Oh it’s all there, in the blush that’s painting his ears pink.
	Starting to see why CKC does this. Profit be damned. It’s all about the femmy boys.
	“C-can’t I just...sign something to say I’ve checked it?”
	“Afraid not.”
	I wait. If I’ve judged this right, he’ll-
	“Can you...come inside while I check it?”
	Bingo.
	“Hmm. Alright.”
	Oh kid, I could so easily rob you right now. What are they teaching you at that university? He steps to the side, gesturing me past him into a small but tidy little living room. He glances out into the corridor again, and I get a lovely view of his round butt as he leans past the door frame. Then he pushes the door shut and stands with his back to it, uneasily watching me.
	“Mind if I?” I sit down before he answers, putting the box on the coffee table.
	“So I just…”
	“Open the box and inspect the contents, yes.”
	He edges over to the other sofa chair and perches on the edge. He slides the box over to his side of the coffee table. I can smell him when he leans forward. Bed musk. And just a little of something else. I know that smell well. It fills the air at CKC. This little panda boy got his morning stiffy interrupted.
	He casts shy glances up at me as he pulls open the tape I had so meticulously laid. Those slender fingers of his delve into the cardboard flaps. A moment of delicious hesitation, followed by the graceful ascent of the black rubber, held aloft between his paws. I become invisible to him; his only attention is now for the suit in his paws.
	“I don’t remember ordering this,” he says. “I would...I would remember ordering this.”
	Inspiration strikes me. I slide the box away from him, letting the rest of the suit fall free. I make a show of inspecting the manifest.
	“Ah, it says here that it’s a free gift,” I say. “for a valued customer.”
	“Oh!”
	I tuck the box away under my arm. No reason to give him a chance to read through my deception.
	“So, umm,” he says. “Is that it? I mean...do I need to do anything else?”
	“You could try it on.”
	“What?” he squeaks.
	“You could try the suit on for me.”
	He pulls the suit against his chest. Those beautiful blue eyes flash with fear. “I...I don’t,” he stammers. Then his expression hardens into a frown. “No. Get out!”
	More inspiration strikes. Damn, I should do this more often. I’m a genius when I’m on the spot. I pull the box back into my lap and close the flaps, smoothing the tape back into place. I drum my fingers against the cardboard and smile at him.
	“I said get out!”
	“If you don’t try the suit on for me,” I say, “I’ll go to your neighbours with this box and tell them I tried to deliver it to you, but you’re out, and would they mind awfully looking after the package and giving it to you when they next see you? And of course, they’ll look at the manifest…”
	“How dare you!”
	“...and they’ll get all sorts of new ideas about you.”
	The suit crumples onto the coffee table and he lurches towards me, paw raised in a fist. I catch his wrist altogether too easily. Weedy little kid, probably never fought with his fists in his life, and so slow that a sloth was able to parry him. I grip hard and twist, turning him down towards the floor, forcing him to kneel as I stand up.
	“I’ll scream!”
	“And then they’ll find the suit. You really want that?”
	A pained whimper. I ease up on my grip.
	“Or...do you want to try on that suit and show me what a sexy little thing you are in it?”
	His breath catches. Got him. I release his wrist and he darts away. He stares at me and I stare at him. His paws fidget awkwardly at his sides.
	“I c-could…”
	I smile, and he falters. And while I have his full attention I lower my gaze to his crotch, and his eyes follow me down.
	“Excited?” I ask. He yelps and puts his paws over his tented boxers.
	“P-please, just go? I’ll give you money. I’ll...I’ll…”
	“Take them off,” I say, “and put the suit on. And then I’ll go.”
	His eyes dart to the suit. He sucks in his lower lip and nibbles at it with his upper incisors.
	“You know you want to,” I whisper. His shoulders sag and his knees bend slightly, a soft whine escaping his lips. Oh yeah...he knows he wants to alright.
	“And then you’ll go?” he whispers.
	“I promise.”
	I should be a politician: his paws uncurl themselves from his crotch and his thumbs hook into the waistband at his hips.
	“Turn around then.”
	“Nope.”
	I sit myself right back down and cross my arms and my legs. I stare at him. I grin at him. And the girly little student slumps again with a feeble whine. He closes his eyes and puffs his chest out with a deep breath, releases it with a shudder. Then…
	Whisk! In one quick motion he sweeps his boxers down to his ankles, hops out of them, then stands back up. On the way up, he hooks the suit with his paw and yanks it in front of his crotch. I’d never seen modesty preserved with a Null suit before. Seems rather inappropriate. In any case, I saw enough in amongst all the motion.
	“Nice cock,” I say. And it is a nice cock; long and thick and hard. Why is it that the femmiest, girliest, subbiest little guys are always the most well-endowed? Is it nature trying to balance out their femininity and overcompensating to make sure we’re all reminded that they are, in fact, male? Or maybe it’s for humiliation purposes; I’ve yet to meet a girly submissive who wasn’t embarrassed at some level by his male equipment. Some want rid of it altogether, others want it tucked away somewhere, in panties, in chastity. Who knows what goes on in their heads. But, if they want that...I’m happy to oblige.
	“T-turn around?” he whispers. I laugh and shake my head.
	“It’s easy to put on,” I say. “Just open up the zip down the back. Start with your feet, down into the suit’s legs.”
	“Don’t I need…” He rolls his fingers against the rubber, and he turns it over to look at the back. That lip nibble again, just for a moment. And I get a longer look at his cock while his guard is down and his modesty defence is forgotten. Hard as a rock. Whatever his protests might be, he’s enjoying this at the most fundamental level.
	“Don’t I need,” he says, trying again. “Some kind of...powder? To, umm, stop it sticking?”
	“Not with this suit. It’s special. Feel it.”
	“How do you kn- oh!” He stares in amazement at the interior of the suit, while his fingertips stroke smoothly over the slick, lubricated surface. He lifts his paw up and rubs his fingertips together. “But...it’s not wet? It’s slippery, but it’s not wet.”
	“Amazing, isn’t it? Go ahead, put it on.”
	No modesty this time. He steps back away from the coffee table and bends down to position the suit underneath one raised leg, just like you would hold a pair of trousers. He bends his toes down to a point and eases it into the opening. A soft gasp shudders from his lips as he pushes down into it. I watch as the limp latex swells with the addition of his leg and admire the way the light catches it when his toes reach the extremity, his foot turning and rotating as he likewise admires it. His pretty little foot is now tipped by a hoof of solid latex.
	“Wow,” he gasps, and I know he’s forgotten all about the predicament he thinks he’s in.
	“Now the other leg,” I say, but he’s already got his foot halfway down inside it before I can finish. There’s no stopping him now: he starts pulling the arms on.
	“Oh wow,” he gasps. “They’re...they’re hooves too.”
	“It’s a pony suit. Didn’t you notice that?”
	He shakes his head, and he inspects his paw again, suddenly uncertain. “How do I...how do I do the zip up? How do I take it off again?”
	“Now the other arm.”
	He hesitates.
	“Now the other arm,” I say, more firmly. I tap the box. And like a good boy, he slides his other arm into the next sleeve. I stand up, and he flinches. “I’m just going to do the suit up for you.”
	“O-okay.”
	Such a pretty look of fear as I move behind him. I can feel his body heat as I pull at the zip to close the suit up his back. He sucks in his tummy and gasps.
	“Tight.”
	“Yeah,” I say, placing my paw on his hip. “Shows off that body of yours.”
	“Mmph!”
	Now for the head. I reach over his shoulders and open out the hood. He lets out a squeaky noise and shakes his head. I know he’s seen the massive cock gag inside the suit’s muzzle.
	“No way! No- MMMPH!”
	“Shh!” I say. Not like he has much choice. I keep forcing the gag into his mouth. His hooved paws beat feebly against my sides, and he tries to writhe out of my grip. Nothing that my arm around his waist can’t stop. I keep pulling until the hood closes fully over his face, sealing his pretty red panda features away. Almost a shame, really. But the new look that takes over more than makes up for it. I pull down the zip on the back of his head and clip the two zip pulls together. Then, I stand around in front of him to admire the view.
	Just another identity-less pony Null, expressionless and helpless, with the cock-serving opening where his mouth should be. Pity it’s not a real Null. Real Nulls are silent. This one, however…
	“MMMMPH!”
	...is still able to vocalise through its gag. I watch as he writhes about, trying to reach to the back of his neck, bumping his fingerless hooves against the zip. No way he’s getting out, and he knows it. He turns his head to face me, and I imagine that his eyes are pleading. It’s hard to tell with the rest of the face covered.
	He suddenly drops to his knees, arms clutched around his chest.
	“Mmmph!”
	Sudden cold fear in my chest. Shit...he’s not asthmatic is he? Or has a heart condition or something? Christ, I don’t want to kill the kid! I rush to him, batting his paws…hooves...away from his neck.
	“Stay still! Let me at it. Let me…”
	Gone.
	The zip is gone.
	I rub at the smooth rubber on the back of his neck. I feel down his back and up his head. Gone. Completely gone! How is that poss-
	...CKC. Of course it’s possible. But why?
	He falls back onto his heels. His hooves rub at his muzzle. I look closer. The nose holes...gone! The eyeholes are seamless with his eyelids, showing no skin, no fur! And his mouth...the cock tube…
	...has started to glisten with lube, and the latex tongue inside has started to dance and wriggle, wholly unlike the fake animatronics that the fake Null suit should have.
	“Holy shit,” I breathe. “It’s made you a real Null.”
	How-
	...of course, CKC again. But why? Why send me out with a real damn Null suit to do this to some random femmy kid? Did he do something to piss Musuko off? Is this a way of making him disappear? Did they plan to just leave him to get discovered, splashed across the newspapers, picked apart by government scientists? Even with a fake Null suit that’d be a danger. But the real deal? This thing isn’t worth thousands. It’s worth millions!
	No...it must be a mistake. It’s not the first time that shipping and handling has messed up. I just need to report this back to base and they’ll tell me what to do. I just need-
	I look down. The panda...the pony...is kneading his hooves against my crotch. He’s staring up at me, and it’s even harder to tell his expression now. He’s absolutely silent, but I imagine him whimpering.
	“It’s alright kid, I’ll get this sorted out. Just-hey!”
	He presses his muzzle against my crotch, and I feel the lube soak right through to my boxers. The tip of that thin, snakey tongue laps against the wet fabric of my trousers. I put my paw on his head to push him away, but he hooks his arms around the backs of my thighs and holds me in place. I can’t make him budge. Damn, I’d heard Nulls are strong!
	“Kid, let go. I’ll get you out of this, just let go!” I try to step towards the door, but he shifts his arms down and I lose my balance, toppling arse first into the sofa chair. He scurries forwards on his knees and rubs his muzzle up and down against my crotch.
	“Fuck,” I breathe. I mean, I did plan to do something like this with him. But...but…
	I glance to the door. I need to report this. But...right away?
	I push at his head, and he doesn’t budge. “Give me room.” I tap at my belt buckle, and instantly he leans back. He bobs up and down, like an eager puppy. The lube drools down his chin. I yank at my belt and fumble to undo it, then pop the buttons of my fly, peeling apart the soaked fabric, and tug down my boxers. I pull my cock free…
	...and his muzzle is on it. Gone. My cock completely disappeared, into that squeezing tube of lubricated rubber, plunged deep inside his muzzle.
	“Oh fuck that feels good!” I gasp, my paw clamping down on the back of his shiny pony head. “Oh fuck me...fuck yes.”
	His head starts to bob up and down, and there’s nothing I can do to stop him. I melt down into the chair, legs spread, my slick cock throbbing into the undulating grip of his muzzle. I can feel the delicate tickle of that tongue dancing around my tip. So fucking good. I’ve never had a blowjob so good! Now I know why they make Nulls!
	His hooves move to his own crotch, or lack of. The rubber is smooth and featureless, with no bulge at all to detract from the feminine curve of his hips or the thin hourglass pinch of his waist. I watch as his hooves rub uselessly at the emptiness. Do Nulls suffer horniness? Do they even still have anything under there? I shudder as my cock drools precum, suckled up by that ravenous cock-pleasing mouth. Do the latex and the nanites deconstruct it entirely? Do they only have that mouth tube? What does it feel like to them?
	I look down. His eyes are closed. His hooves move away from his crotch. He’s actually put them behind his back. I feel that mouth tube squeeze tighter around my shaft, long milking strokes up towards the tip.
	What does that tube feel like for him. I rock my hips, thrusting upwards just as he starts to move down. I watch as his back arches. A reaction. If he weren’t silent, maybe a groan?
	My god...it would be just like CKC to make Nulls feel like that mouth orifice of theirs was their erogenous zone. That’s so good. That’s so...evil.
	I grip the pert, rubbery pony ears of his in my paws, and I feel the resistance of his head relax. He understands. I hold his head still and rock my hips, thrusting at my own slow pace into that drooling cocksleeve. Slow becomes fast, then faster still, and I’m gonna...I’m gonna cum...I’m gonna cum into that sexy little red panda Null’s mouth!
	I slump over his head, panting and gasping, every part of me trembling. His tongue strokes gently at my cock as the last of my cum drools from its tip. I collapse back into the seat, and he keeps on suckling, ever so gently, his eyes now opened, looking up at me.
	“Did you enjoy that?” I gasp.
	Nothing. No movement. No nod or shake of his head.
	“Kid? I said did you enjoy that?”
	Still nothing. Just that expectant look, with my cock up to his throat inside his muzzle. Weird.
	“I...I better get you back to...back to base. Get this all sorted out.” I wave a tired paw. “Stand up.”
	And he does, springing to attention with his hooves held up in front of his chest, pointed down.
	“Why are you doing that? Where did you learn...you know what, never mind.” I stand up and nearly get tangled in my clothes. I clumsily get myself tidied up, stuffing my dripping cock back into my clothes. “Follow...follow me, back to the van.” I scoop up the box. He trots, actually trots, behind me all the way to the door. He was so scared of the neighbours finding out about his kink, but now is perfectly fine with being seen like this?
	I have a lot to learn about Null suits. I open the door and gesture for him to follow.
	“Quickly now,” I say, watching his shiny body dance past me. Hopefully...I’ll get plenty of time to learn more. Maybe...maybe I don’t have to go straight back to CKC. My house isn’t too far after all…

From various points around Alec’s flat, microscopic insects of metal and carbon, their job done, scuttle out of their hiding places and lay themselves in the sun on the window ledge. Their intricate circuitry and the tiny lenses of their video cameras crackle and degrade in the heat, until they are each nothing more than a few specks of ordinary household dust.
	Far away, a screen relays a message to a bored operator. Recording complete. A few mouse clicks brings up the images, views from all angles. Another click, and the automated editing software fires up, a scrolling status bar racing across the screen as it puts together some top-quality high-gloss smutty entertainment.
	Fingers drum a table. Then, they tap at a keyboard, filling in the last little bit that a computer can’t do.
	CKC Entertainments presents the first in a new series. Null Suit Adventures, Part One: Speedy Delivery.
	Job done.