Null Suit Adventures: Y2K
By Musuko

December 31st 1999.

The new year and a fresh start. That’s how everyone sees it, isn’t it? A little odd, really, when it’s just an arbitrary date on the calendar. Why not have a fresh start on February second? Or March third? Hell, surely the spring would be a better time for it; season of renewal and birth and all that. But, whatever. Convention says it’s January first where we start over. And who’s to argue with convention? Not me. Nope. Nosiree.
	 I tried to claim that I’m a little too old to do the clubbing thing; clubbing’s for teenagers, not for twenty-somethings. Nobody wants to drag granddad out to dance and go oonts oonts oonts. I’d stick out like a smacked bum. But my friend Lane insisted that I go out with him. I suppose I felt obligated. He’s like my gay little brother. He’s what I was not too many years ago, and I could kinda see myself in him. So young and naive and adorable. And cute too. Very cute. He’d be exactly my type if I hadn’t known him since I was eight years old, since the very day of his birth in fact: his parents were friends of my parents. I remember seeing him as this screaming little ball of wet baby fluff. It’d be a bit weird to try and fuck him now. It’d be like trying to fuck your childhood plushie. I suppose some people would like that, but I’m not one of those people. Bit of a shame really, because Lane is capital C cute. He’s got one ear made of derp, bent in the middle, flopping down and always getting in his eyes. He’s got a little floof of a tail that he can never quite decide how to sort out with his clothes: should it go above the waistband or through a hole? And he fusses over it constantly, always asking me if I think it looks okay, as if I’m the expert on tail organisation. But if you wanna see him at his cutest, just call him a bunny. He hates that! He’ll give you the most adorable pouty frown and will lecture you at length about the differences between hares and rabbits, and why as a hare he’s naturally the superior species.
	As a bunny myself, of course, I take it in the spirit it is intended: I take offence and I tickle his little tummy until he takes it back! Hehe. Sometimes I get the feeling that he does it on purpose to give me an excuse to do it. But maybe I’m just reading too much into it. Who knows.
	The club he took me to was called Beatz or Bootiez or something like that. It was loud. It was hot. It was sticky. But everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. The music was unashamedly cheesy and the drag queens up on the stage were at just the right level of campy cattiness. Hands were up in the air, bodies were churning, drinks were spilling, and faces were smiling. I kinda felt myself getting into the mood. It was new year’s eve, I was with a friend, I was surrounded by happy people, and the drink in my hand was fruity and strange and new, with an outrageously naughty name like “cum bucket” or “slutty fox” or something. I bounced along with Lane, laughing at his playful wiggles, and watched as he drew in the attention of the others dancing around him. He wouldn’t be heading home alone, I could tell.
	Nor, it seemed, would I be alone that night. I doubted that my uncoordinated bobbing was getting quite the same degree of attention as my twinky, exuberant friend’s gyrations were getting, but it seemed that I was drawing the eye of at least one guy. And this guy stood out in the crowd. At least, he did to me. He was truly the product of this environment, taken to an extreme. His fur was dyed vivid cyan, and there must have been something in the dye that reacted to UV light, because every now and then his whole body flashed a vibrant purple. And there was a lot of body on show: he wore a pair of tight latex shorts, a heavy pair of clompy boots, and not an awful lot else that I could see. His hair was up in a spiky mowhawk, spray painted into a bright rainbow, looking like he could poke your eye out in the gayest way possible. With all the colours and the flashing lights of the club it took a few moments for me to figure out his species. It was the tail that gave it away in the end: long and slender. A rodent’s tail. But he didn’t have the big dish ears of a mouse or rat, though. They were smaller, folded back, furred inside and out, and with gleaming golden studs pierced in both I noticed. I was trying to think through the various exotic species I knew, trying to place him, and was considering the possibility of an even more exotic kind of hybrid, when he noticed me looking and flashed a smile of white, pointed, carnivorous teeth. Definitely a hybrid.
	He jerked his head in a way that said, in this loud, speechless environment, “wanna dance?” And oh yes, I wanted to dance with this strange and interesting creature. I felt goose bumps when he smiled. He had one of those warm, open smiles, with big friendly eyes, which in his case were dazzling electric pink in colour: contact lenses, I suspected. I gulped down the rest of my drink, abandoned the glass, and slid my hands onto this sexy guy’s hips. I might not have been the best dancer, but I could certainly do this kind of thing. I brushed the side of my muzzle against his and kneaded my thumbs against the fur just above the waistband of his little shorts. He rocked against me and I heard his laugh through the music, and felt him press against my front.
	“I’m Kannon,” he shouted, right by my ear, just loud enough for me to make out.
	“Marcus,” I shouted.
	I moved my hands around to his back. They spent a brief moment cradling the small of his back, stroking through the fur, making a small pretence of relatively innocent affection, before I moved them to their real target: each hand cupped a perfect, taut little butt cheek, squeezing through the latex. I heard him giggle in a momentary quiet break in the music, and he drew his head back just enough to look me in the eye, and we shared a look of “oh yeah, we’re gonna fuck later”. And I remembered why I used to go to clubs when I was younger, and decided that I was going to have to go to them a lot more in future. That would definitely have to be my new year’s resolution.
	We danced for a while. Or rather, he danced, and I bobbed along in a daze. The music pounded in my ears, and I could feel it putting me into a happy trance. The alcohol from my fruity drink seeped into my mind. I could feel it blurring my thoughts. I felt myself loosening up, my bobbing getting a bit more adventurous, my fingers gripping his cute butt a little tighter, and then roaming up and down his back to trail furrows through his soft fur. Lyrics started joining the music, and I recognised it as an old cheesy hit from the eighties, remixed into the techno beat. Voices whooped around me, and the drag queens mimed along in theatrical style. I found myself singing, laughing through most of the words. And I saw that Kannon was doing the same: mouth open wide, eyes closed, belting out the words, while his hands came to rest on my shoulders. I pressed myself tighter against him. Our mutual hardons met, and he opened his eyes and gave me a devilish, smiling look as he sang through the chorus. I waited for a pause, a moment where he caught his breath, and dived in for a kiss.
	He melted against me. There was no other word for it. Our tongues played together, my hand came up to cup the back of his head. His hands fell from my shoulders and stroked down my sides, then came back up again to fumble at the buttons on my deeply unfashionable shirt, managing to pop one open before he gave up. He yanked the shirt up and slid his hand in under it, rubbing at the fur of my tummy. I gripped him tighter and murmured my approval into the kiss, then finally broke away, breathless, flustered, drunk. And I could see my own feelings mirrored in his expression. I took hold of his hand and led him away off the dance floor, getting no resistance from him. I glanced back once to check on Lane. He was wrapped up in the arms of a muscular stallion and was clearly happy about it. He would be fine. I led Kannon to the relative quiet of the booths that lined the wall either side of the bar, where tired dancers crashed for a breather, where couples retreated to climb inside each other, clothes separating from fur just as much as public decency could stretch. There was an atmosphere of taut sexuality. It trembled in the air. It made the head feel giddy and the world seem full of love and life and joy. I squeezed Kannon’s hand. It felt so small in mine. I felt him squeeze back. And when I turned and sat back into the soft cushions of the booth, he clambered straight up into my lap to kneel, straddling me, his rear pressing down against my tenting crotch, his hands cupping my cheeks and his lips meeting mine.
	I’m sure we got a few looks, and none of them were critical. We were doing what everyone else was already doing or wanted to do: making out. My hands went all over Kannon’s slim, nearly naked body, while his did their utmost to try and get my body out of its clothing. I groped and squeezed his cock through his latex shorts. Big and thick, and feeling bigger and thicker thanks to the contrast against his slim little body. I chuckled halfway through a kiss at a silly little thought: it was Kannon’s cannon. He gave me a look, head tilted, eyebrow raised, and I waved his curiosity away and distracted it with another kiss, nibbling at his lower lip.
	He tilted my head and started to lick the edge of my ear, wetting the fur. He huffed a warm, tickling breath. “Wanna get out of here?” he said.
	“Oh yes,” I said.
	The cold air of the street outside hit me like a welcome blast of refreshing cleansing after the heat and sweat of the club. Kannon wrapped himself in a long woollen coat, and somehow that made him look even cuter. I could imagine parting the coat and sliding my hands into the private warmth inside, cradling his slim hips, pressing his back up against a wall and driving my tongue into his muzzle. I kept glancing at likely alleys in which to drag him into. But I kept those thoughts as just fantasies. I didn’t really fancy freaking him out like that. With those big boots he could do some real damage if he thought I was getting a bit rapey! Anyway, who would want some greasy alley when there are so many warm, cosy beds in the world, to drench with sweat and musk and seed. I watched him as we walked, feeling a little sobered by the cool air. His smiling face was so alive and animated as he chatted, at ease with me as if I were a friend of decades. And now that we were away from the noise of the club I could hear the tinge of his accent. I couldn’t quite place it. I wondered if it was a mix of accents. That would make sense. Hybrid accents for a hybrid rodent.
	“So what do you do?” he asked. His eyes wandered towards the glowing lights of a takeaway, but we didn’t stop. We weaved through the staggering, whooping clusters of revellers gathered in the town centre. Somewhere in the distance I could hear fireworks.
	“Hmm?” I said, not really paying too much attention to what he was saying. I was staring, and none too subtly. God he was cute.
	“For a job.”
	“Oh. Nothing special. I sit in an office and move paper around. What do you do?”
	He gave me a smile that was tricky to read. Cheeky, maybe? Coy? “Nothing special,” he said. “Just a job like any other. Big company. Very dull. They throw great parties though.”
	“Oh?”
	“Big bashes for VIPs. Lots of drink and food. They’ve got one on tonight.”
	“Is that so?”
	“Yeah. Huge party. All the trimmings. No expense spared. Very hip.”
	“So why aren’t you there?”
	He flashed his grin, eyes dancing. He slid his arm around mine and bumped against my side. “Because I didn’t have a date to go with.”
	“Ah,” I said. “I see!”
	He tugged my arm and stopped me in my stride. He stood up on his toes and cupped my cheeks, pulling me into another kiss. I returned it with enthusiasm, to the obvious delight of the cheering group of drunken girls who passed us. I tasted the fruity cider on his breath. I felt the rumble of the moan in the back of his throat.
	“So,” he breathed, breaking the kiss, his lips still close to mine. His fingers stroked against my cheeks. “Wanna go to the party?”
	“Definitely,” I said.
	“It’s not far. We’ll get there before midnight.”
	I got the distinct feeling he was in the lead now. He cuddled my arm as we walked, our pace brisk, weaving through the crowds, away from the throbbing heart of the town’s nightlife, into the quieter streets where taxis waited for the drunken revellers to finish their night. He turned me into a street lined with glass-fronted offices, the town’s modern, swanky business district. Here, there were no revellers. No clubs, no music, no parties. The fireworks above smacked loud in a cool, clear night, reflecting off of windows and the curvy chrome works of art that always seemed to be placed in front of buildings like these. I saw maybe three people: one blind drunk gentleman weaving about under the streetlights, singing Auld Lang Syne far too early, and a couple in intimate embrace up against a wall, in a shadow that wasn’t dark enough to properly hide them. One building was lit up more than the others, glowing lights radiating out through the windows like a beacon. Kannon led the way towards it. Outside, a sign read “Cahill, Kingsley and Clarke, inc.”
	“This where you work?” I said.
	“Mmmhmm.”
	“Nice place. Very shiny.”
	“Thanks.”
	“What does this place do?”	
	“Oh, you know. Stuff.”
	“How mysterious!”
	“Heh!”
	He punched a code into a keypad by the door, which slid open. The welcome warmth of a slick, corporate lobby spilled out, and with it came the faint sounds of the thumping bass beat and the happy cheers of a party. We made our way to the lifts, stepping inside the car. I noted, without much concern, that we headed down instead of up. Looking at the board, it seemed that this building had about six floors of basement. I doubted we were heading for the boiler room.
	I couldn’t resist taking advantage of the momentary privacy: there’s something naughty about making out in a lift. I pressed him up against the wall of the lift car and smothered him with a kiss, my hands groping to squeeze his butt and grind against his cock. I felt him shiver and heard him gasp. I chuckled in satisfaction, and withdrew just in time for the doors to open and the pounding din of the party to hit us.
	“Oh wow.”
	“I know, right?”
	There were roaming laser beams. There was glittering fog. There was a light-up dance floor, swirling with colours and geometric shapes. There were plasma screens on the walls, displaying patterns that shifted and morphed like a fever dream hallucination, dancing in time with the music. And from wall to wall the wide room was packed with dancing bodies, moving together in a churning mass of ecstasy in the colourful darkness. Mingled scents of a hundred species filled my nose. The music throbbed in my ears, tugging at me like a physical presence, drawing me towards the dance: come and join in, it sang to me. Come and dance with all these sexy people. Kannon fitted in perfectly here: his vibrant blaze of colour and style was reflected in the riot of rainbow style in front of me. He shed his coat, tossing it towards a pile of stacked desks and chairs against a wall. It struck me then: this was normally an office. The transformation into a nightclub party room was impressive.
	“Come on,” he said, tugging at my hand, drawing me into the mass of bodies like a sexy Pied Piper. I followed happily.
	He seemed to know everybody, and they seemed to know him. I mentally slapped myself: of course they did. He worked here, didn’t he? I felt like I was being shown off, and that was okay. Who wouldn’t want to be the arm candy for such a cute guy? I noticed a lot of interesting outfits amongst the dancing crowd, snatched in glimpses as the changing lights flashed on them. Latex and chrome, leather and lace, everything was there. I caught my breath at the sight of bare breasts and naked sheaths.
	“What is it you said this company does?” I shouted.
	“What?”
	“Never mind!”
	We slow danced inappropriately, while everyone else around jumped and raved to the rapid techno beat. I stroked his hips and tickled my tongue along the points of his teeth. I played with the base of his tail and stroked my fingertips down the latex-coated cleft of his butt. He kneaded his claws against my shirt. With surprising strength he took two handfuls of the cotton and yanked, popping the buttons, sending them spinning off somewhere into the crowd. He dragged his fingertips down my chest, scraping claws through my fur. I pulled his head up and met his lips with a forceful kiss. I felt his claws sink into my skin. Pleasurable pain. I wanted more. I wanted him.
	He drew back and tilted his head over towards a doorway at the far end of the room. I grinned. That wasn’t an invitation I was going to turn down. He led me on a weaving path through the dancers. I tried not to trip over tails and feet. He kept glancing back over his shoulder, his fur shimmering with UV glow, his teeth gleaming.
	The corridor beyond the door was stacked high with desks and chairs and boxed up computers. The lights were on, strangely ordinary compared to the party. Some of the fog drifted in wisps, fading away around our ankles. Kannon spun to face me and stroked a fingertip down my chest.
	“What do you think?”
	I grinned, staring at him. “I think you look great.”
	“Not me, silly. The party.”
	“You were right. Very hip. Doesn’t look like the kind of thing you’d see in a place like this.”
	“My employers aren’t what you’d call...conventional.”
	“Oh?”
	He smiled, coy again. I got the feeling that he wasn’t going to be drawn into explaining. I grabbed him and pulled him against my front. The kiss I gave him was rough. Bitey. I held onto his lower lip until he squeaked.
	“What does this place do, exactly?” I said, in as close to a growl as a bunny can manage. He seemed conflicted for a moment. I waited for him to make up his mind. Cogs turning behind that pretty face.
	“Alright,” he said. “I’ll show you...”
	He paused at a door. This one was bigger and more imposing than any of the others I’d seen. It looked out of place in the ordinary-looking office. It seemed like it would fit in better in a bank, as the vault door.
	“You can keep a secret, can’t you?” he said.
	“Of course.”
	“Good.” He tapped in a code and the door rumbled open. “Because I would get in a lot of trouble if anyone found out I showed you this.”
	My breath caught in my throat at the sight of the room beyond. It looked like the bridge of the Starship Enterprise. I had never seen so many computers and wires and glowing buttons, and I said so.
	“Heh,” he said. “Yeah, this stuff is pretty expensive. Don’t touch anything okay?”
	“Not even you?”
	“Well, you can touch that. But not anything else. Come on, this way.”
	He walked me through the room, between tables piled high with gadgets and widgets. The walls and floor were glossy and white, and the furniture had the look of high-tech utilitarianism. But everything else was a chaos of disorganised clutter. There were sheets of printed paper and scribbled notes all over the place. On one I spied the words “Clever Kitty Creations”, printed as if it were a letterhead. The sounds of the party faded to near silence as the door closed behind us. We were very much alone together.
	“So, what exactly is this place?”
	“It’s where they develop stuff to sell to rich perverts. All very secret.”
	“Perverts?”
	He turned to grin at me. “Yeah. Kinky stuff, you know? Still wanna see?”
	“Hell yeah.”
	“Let me show you the latest thing, then. This thing will blow your mind.”
	“So long as it doesn’t blow my head off. Are you sure all this stuff is safe?”
	“Totally safe,” he said. “I think. Try not to worry about it!”
	I edged a little further away from the nearest cluster of gadgets. Kannon pulled open a glossy cupboard door. From within came the sound of hissing air and the whirr and click of mysterious devices. I backed away a little further.
	“What do you think?”
	Within the cupboard, and surrounded by cables and pipes and blinking lights, hung the formless, shabby shape of a black latex body suit. Without anyone wearing it, it had the look of a skinned animal. But at the top I could clearly make out the shape of a rigid equine muzzle, and two perky equine ears.
	“What is it?” I said.
	“We call it a Null Suit. That’s just the working name, of course. The marketing department will think of something better to call it when it’s ready to sell. I don’t think they’d want to call it a Null Suit. Bit of a silly name, really.”
	“What’s it...” I wanted to ask what it was for, but I could figure that out for myself: in one form or another, it was clearly for sex. Now that I looked closer, I could see the rigid, latex equine phallus jutting out from the suit’s middle. “What’s it do?”
	“Well, you put it on and...well, it’s easier to show you.” He reached up and plucked the suit off of the oddly-shaped hanger it was suspended from. “Wanna try it on?”
	“What? Aren’t you going to put it on?”
	“Not much point in me putting it on, is there? I already know what it does.”
	“Is it safe?”
	“Totally safe. It’s pretty much ready to sell. It’s just being tested for long-term wear at the moment by the test volunteers. But for short-term wear, it’s totally fine.”
	He lifted the head of the suit up, showing me the open maw of the zippered opening down the front. The latex lining inside glistened, as if it were lubricated.
	“I don’t know,” I said.
	“I’ll let you fuck me while you’re wearing it,” he said. “And trust me...it’ll feel so good.”
	I couldn’t help the smile that twitched at my lips. “What, here? In this lab place?”
	He nodded. “Right here. Over that table.”
	“Well...” I licked my lips. The suit did look awfully interesting. A chance to try out the latest kinky fetish item, before it’s even on sale? And one that I’d probably never have a hope in hell of affording anyway? Hell, how could I say no? He saw my smile and my longing eyes and held the opening of the suit a little wider.
	“Take your clothes off,” he said.
	“There’s no, like, cameras or anything in here, are there?”
	“Nope. Nobody else can see you. Just me.” He tilted his head and licked his tongue along the tips of his upper teeth. “Take it slow. Gimme a good show.”
	“Your wish is my command,” I said, well aware that I sounded a lot more confident than I felt. My eyes returned to that suit, to the glistening opening that I knew was soon going to be touching my fur. I forced myself instead to look at Kannon, and that made me feel better. He watched with a big, eager smile as I slipped my broken shirt off my shoulders and wriggled it down my arms, letting it fall to the floor behind me. I unbuckled my belt, snapping it to the side and jutting my hips, humming a silly little stripper tune. He grinned wider, snickering. I slid my thumbs down under the waistband of my smart black jeans, feeling a little concerned that they were going to get dirty on this admittedly quite clean-looking floor, and peeled them down over the curve of my hips, taking my boxers down with them. My hardon sprang free, and I saw his eyes snap to it. The grin stayed. Evidently he approved.
	The show became a little less professional as I struggled to kick my shoes off. I should have done them first. I nearly tripped with the jeans around my ankles, and Kannon was failing to suppress laughter when I finally stood back upright, naked and proud, my hands on my hips, ready for him.
	“Nice,” he said, and with his eyes on my cock I knew what he meant. “It’s gonna look even nicer once it’s in here. You ready?”
	“As I’ll ever be,” I said.
	He opened the suit up wider. I saw bumps and shapes in the lining on the inside, hints of wires and devices. “Legs in first. I’ll hold it steady.”
	The glistening lining felt cool and slick against my toes as I eased my foot down into the suit. I braced one hand against his shoulder to keep myself steady.
	“You sure this is gonna fit me? It looks a little small.”
	“It’s one size fits all.”
	“Really? That’s clever.”
	“Oh yes. This is a very clever suit. Is your foot in? Okay, good, now the other one.”
	As I settled into the crotch of the suit I felt the prod of something rigid against my tailhole. I gave a little yelp, but it was too late: my weight was on my feet inside the suit now, and I was sinking inexorably downwards. I tried to relax and not fight it, but it wasn’t easy. I wasn’t too used to being penetrated without preparation. I gritted my teeth and hissed.
	“Oh, sorry!” he said. “Here, this’ll help.”
	I heard a click and whirr, and suddenly the thing pressing into my tailhole began to wriggle.
	“Oh god, what is that?!”
	“Just relax. I turned on the suit. It’s calibrating itself to you. Does it feel better?”
	It did feel better. Whatever it was, and I guessed it was a latex plug of some kind, had shrunk down a bit, getting thinner and longer from the feel of it. It slid easily into me, lubricated with the same wetness that lined the rest of the suit.
	“You’ll have to do this bit,” he said. “I don’t have any hands free. Reach down and slide your cock into that hole in the front. Do you see it?”
	In the crotch of the suit, lined up with the big latex horse phallus on the outside, was a hole. I guessed that meant my real cock would sit snugly inside the big fake one. “Yeah.”
	“Gently. It’ll feel a bit...strange.”
	He wasn’t kidding. The wet, lubricated hole squeezed my shaft as I pushed into it. I felt undulating ripples move along its length, squeezing and kneading. And then, slowly, a numbness set in. I panicked initially. But when I reached down and squeezed the latex horse phallus, intending to yank it off my cock, it felt as if I had gripped my own naked cock.
	“Whoah,” I gasped.
	“Told you it would feel good, didn’t I? Come on, don’t get distracted: there’s lots more suit still to put on. Hold out your arms.”
	I did as I was told, like a child getting his clothes put on him. The sleeves of the suit were just like the legs: slick, cool and tight, gripping me firmly all the way down to my fingertips. The latex seemed to stretch to fit me perfectly, and it looked amazing: a beautiful glossy sheen, like black marble. The suit’s exterior didn’t have fingers: instead, it looked as if my hands were stuffed into moulded latex hooves. I looked further down, and yes, it seemed that my feet were just the same, shaped into big sturdy hooves by the suit. As I admired myself, Kannon moved behind me.
	“Gonna put the head on now. You ready?”
	“I can breathe in that thing, right? Do I need to hold my breath or anything like that?”
	“You’ll be fine. Just relax and hold still...”
	Darkness descended, and cold wetness enveloped the top of my head. My ears were flattened uncomfortably down against the sides of my head, until I heard another click and a whirr, and suddenly the discomfort was gone. My ears were pressed flat, but they had enough room to not be crushed. I felt the latex skin squeeze against my muzzle. In a repeat of what had happened below, I felt something rigid and rounded press against my lips.
	“Mmmph!” I said.
	“Let it in,” I heard, muffled by the latex over my ears. I did as I was told. The rubbery bulb wriggled just as the other one had. I felt it lengthen and widen, swelling to fill my mouth. I gagged for a moment, until the tip retreated back a fraction from my throat. I huffed air through my nose, breathing through what felt like a hole in the tip of the suit’s muzzle. I clenched my teeth against the rubber filling my mouth. It gave a little, but sprang back when I relaxed. My mouth was as full as it could possibly be without me choking.
	“You can open your eyes.”
	I saw him standing in front of my, his hands at my tummy. My vision was slightly tinted, as if I were looking through sunglasses. The suit didn’t press against my eyes. It was surprisingly comfortable. I couldn’t even see the suit’s covering at the edges of my vision. I felt the suit tighten around my waist as Kannon tugged up the zipper, and when it reached my throat I heard another click and a whirr.
	“You’re in. How does it feel?”
	“Mmmph!” was all I could say with the rubber bulb filling my mouth.
	“Heh, silly me. Does it feel good?”
	I nodded without hesitation. It felt amazing. I rotated my arms in front of myself, checking out the shine at every angle. It fitted me as if it were my own skin. It didn’t even wrinkle when I bent my arms. And even though by rights I should have been hot enough to sweat already, I felt cool and comfortable. No wonder this thing was for rich perverts and not the common muck like me.
	“Want to see what you look like?”
	“Mmmhmm!”
	He gripped my wrist and led me a few steps. My hooved feet clomped heavily on the floor. Against the wall was a mirror, and he stood me in front of it to look at myself in my full suited glory.
	“Mmmh!” I said, which was an attempt to say the word “wow”. I looked like a shiny black pony. It was definitely a pony and not a horse: the snout was short and pert, the ears were small and adorable, and the overall proportions lacked the tall, stout majesty of a full horse. I looked small and fuckable. I would fuck me if I could! I reached down with my hooved hands and gripped my rigid latex phallus between them. I felt the squeeze translated to my cock inside it, and I shuddered with pleasure, groaning into my rubbery gag.
	“Did you see what your mouth looks like? Look a little closer,” said Kannon, pressing his hand against the small of my back and edging me towards the mirror. I lifted my head up and saw what he was getting at: the bulb in my mouth wasn’t solid at all! It was hollow, opening to the outside of the suit. And inside it was what looked like the most perfect fuck hole I could ever imagine, slick and wet with lubrication just like the inside of the suit, lined with ridges and knobbles, perfect for servicing an eager cock thrust into it. I huffed out a muffled groan of pleasure and bit down against the bulb, seeing how the fuck hole tightened as I did. A thought occurred to me, and I shuffled around to face away from the mirror, twisting my head back to look over my shoulder. I had a cute little docked pony tail sticking up at the base of my spine, but that’s not what I was looking for. With my hooved hands I pressed my smooth, latex butt cheeks apart...
	“Yes, there’s one back there too,” said Kannon, giggling. “You’re a perfect little fuck toy.”
	I snapped my head round to glare at him. I doubted the expression could translate through the suit’s pony mask, but he seemed to get it nonetheless: he held his hands up defensively.
	“Not that anyone’s gonna fuck you, of course,” he said. “You’re gonna fuck me, with this big boy...” He gripped my latex phallus with both hands and squeezed, and I nearly dropped to the floor on gooey legs from how good it felt. He tilted his head, ear perked. Muffled in the distance was the sound of cheers, the sound of a countdown.
	“Must be nearly midnight,” he said. “Wanna fuck me into the new year?”
	“Mmmhmm!”
	He turned away from me and swung an arm across the top of the nearest table, shunting aside the chaos of contraptions and devices. He bent forwards, his rear perked upwards, his slender tail draped off to one side. He looked back at me over his shoulder, eyes dancing, as he reached back and peeled his shorts down over the curve of his butt.
	“You can go in dry,” he breathed. “The suit will lube me for you.”
	I stood between his spread legs, my shiny new latex cock poised above his eager tailhole, so small and delicate beneath such a big fat cock. I bit down hard on the rubber in my mouth. I wanted to savour this moment, holding the tip of my new cock right at his hole, ready to plunge in and feel the tightness press around it. I felt him clench and unclench, teasing at my tip. I heard him breathe out a soft gasp. He kept his eyes on my, peeking over his shoulder. I couldn’t see his mouth, but I knew he was smiling. If I waited much longer I knew he would thrust back against me, impaling himself. I held his hips between my hooved hands, gripping and bracing myself, ready to thrust into him. The muffled cheering from the party grew louder, the countdown nearing the end. At the stroke of midnight I would thrust into my new friend and start the new year with a fuck. I readied myself, tense and trembling. Three...two...one...
	In an instant, everything went black. I heard the cheering turned to screams, and then the growing clamour of confusion. I felt Kannon wriggle beneath me and push my hooved hands off him.
	“Mmmh?!”
	“The power must have gone out,” he said. “There are backup generators. Give it a second...”
	A humming sound vibrated up through my feet. The lights above winked on, dimmer than they had been before, but a welcome relief from the inky blackness of total darkness.
	“Ah, that’s better,” said Kannon. He rested a reassuring hand against my chest. I heard the voices in the party settle down into less panic-stricken hubbub. “I wonder what happened? Excuse me just a moment.”
	He moved away from me, across the room towards a bank of screens, all of which were black. He tapped at a keyboard, paused, then tapped a little more urgently. But I wasn’t really noticing in too much detail what he was doing because I had something more pressingly important stealing my attention away: I could not move. At all. Not a single inch in any direction. I was frozen, like a statue, my whole body rigid and immobile, encased in the latex skin which now felt like it had set as hard as stone.
	“Nnngh!” I wheezed. I could barely even hear it myself, the sound was so quiet. Kannon didn’t seem to hear me. He kept tapping at the keyboard, muttering under his breath. Then he was jabbing the keys. Then, with a grunt of frustration, he smacked the nearest screen with the flat of his palm.
	“All the computers are down. I mean, they’re on, but they’re just not working.”
	In the centre of my vision, floating as if in midair, a word had appeared in vibrant electronic green, flashing on and off. It read, “rebooting”.
	“Nnhh!” I wheezed.
	“What’s wrong?” He came back over to me. “Is something...oh no.”
	I saw the horror of realisation in his eyes and panic turned my skin to ice. I didn’t know what had gone wrong, but I could tell it wasn’t good.
	“Nnngh?!”
	“Don’t worry, just relax!” he said, in a strained and panicky voice that made me feel anything but relaxed. “I can fix this. Just give me a second. I just need to...” He scurried back across the room and tugged a metal panel off a box on the wall.
	The word in front of my eyes changed. It now read, “reboot complete”.
	And then, a moment later, It read, “restoring testing protocols”.
	I felt a shiver rippled through my body as the suit did...something. I had no idea what. And then I was moving, my arms and legs jerking in rhythmic motion, turning me around and facing me towards the other end of the room, moving me like I was a puppet.
	“Oh no,” I heard Kannon cry from behind me. “Oh no no no! Stop! Overide! That’s not good at all!”
	The suit began to march, clomping the heavy hooves along the smooth floor. It carried me along with it, a helpless passenger. As hard as I strained my muscles against it, I could not make it stop.
	“Mmmmmmmph!”
	“It’s okay,” cried Kannon, his voice quavering. “I can fix this! Just...go with it for now! I’ll rescue you in a minute!”
	The suit marched faster, towards a door, which slid obligingly open as I approached, revealing an ominous darkness beyond. I screamed as loudly as I could through my gag as I lurched forwards, into the darkness.
	“I’m sorry!” cried Kannon, the last thing I heard before the door slid shut behind me.
	The suit marched for what felt like forever, clumping along a ringing metal floor in the total black darkness. It could have been hours. How long was this room? This corridor? This passageway? I was underground, so it could have stretched for miles. Despite my desperate panic, I eventually found myself growing tired. I struggled to keep my eyes open. My body ached all over, exhausted. Even though I hadn’t done any of the marching, my body was still moving, feeling the jolt of every step, the incessant swing of the suit’s motion. I closed my eyes, whimpering into the gag. Maybe it was a dream. A nightmare. Maybe I could wake up if I just willed myself to sleep.

Janurary 1st 2000.

I woke to a bright light shining inches in front of my face. I couldn’t close my eyes. I couldn’t turn my head. A feeble whimper died in silence in my throat. The suit was rigid around me, making me stand to attention like a mannequin.
	The light moved. A face appeared: a female deer in a lab coat holding a torch. She scribbled a note on a pad cradled in her arm.
	“Number six eight three looks to be functioning,” she said. “Stimulation cycle appears inactive. Mikey, can you confirm?”
	“Stimulation cycle inactive, confirmed,” came a male voice from somewhere behind me.
	“Hmm.” The woman considered me for a moment. I tried to call out to her, to tell her that some dreadful mistake had happened, but the suit forced me to stand still, in total silence. “How many have we got left working to go back into the stimulation tests?”
	“Not enough. Batch six has twelve testers so far that have needed to be desuited.”
	“Was six eight three on the roster?”
	“Just a moment, I’ll check.”
	I put all my effort into moving my little finger on my right hand. Maybe if I could just get it to twitch, it would be enough to raise the alarm. The deer wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to me. More notes went onto the pad.
	“Six eight three shows as being two months into a five year testing period,” said Mikey. “But I can’t see any tester information, nor any testing records.”
	“Lost in the crash?”
	“Looks like it.”
	Now she looked me in the eye. I stared back out at her, silently pleading. What must I have looked like to her? Just an inanimate rubber pony? But she knew there was a person sealed up inside it. She just didn’t know it was me instead of the person who was meant to be testing it! What kind of weirdo would volunteer for this?
	“Very well,” she said. “Put six eight three onto a fresh five year testing period and mark the tester as John Doe. We can correct it once we’ve got the suit off in five years.”
	I screamed silently into my gag as she moved on to my right. And now I could see, in the corner of my eye, another suited figure stood beside me, as rigidly immobile as I was. She stopped in front of him, made more notes, spoke to Mikey again. I wasn’t listening. I was looking to my left and to my right, to the long line of Null Suited testers standing either side of me, all the way to the edges of what looked to be a large gymnasium or conference room.
	“Hey Linda,” said Mikey. “Got a call for you from upstairs.”
	“Shit,” she said. “Okay, set these guys onto free roam, would you Mikey? After I’m out of the room I mean.”
	I heard Mikey chuckle. “Whatever you say, Linda.”
	Footsteps and bumps, and a whirr and a hiss. The lights above me dimmed a fraction. And suddenly, with a tingle that flashed across my skin, I could move again. I slumped forwards, bracing my hooved hands against my knees. I lifted my head to look around, at the others around me. There were even more of them than I thought, extending in rows behind me. Hundreds of Null Suits! All identical. An army of shiny black pony boys, each with their hard equine cock and leaking, lubricated mouth and anus fuck holes. I turned to the nearest one, raising my hooves, trying to summon his attention. But he didn’t notice. Or if he did, he didn’t care. The blank, expressionless face stared right past me as he jumped at me. I jumped backwards, yelping into the gag in my mouth, and tripped over a leg lying horizontal on the floor behind me. I flailed as I fell, and the nameless Null came right down after me.
	He pinned my shoulders to the floor. His face hovered above mine. Lube dripped from his mouth hole into mine. I saw his cock glistening. Hooved hands gripped my thighs and pushed my knees up to rest against my chest. I beat my hooves at him, but I couldn’t prise him off of me. I saw what was coming. I braced myself. I felt tears prick in the corners of my eyes. And when I let my head drop back I saw the army of Nulls around me were all on the floor, each and every one of them, entwined in glossy, writhing heaps of frantic animal passion, fucking and fondling, rubbery cocks driving into rubbery mouths and rears, lubrication smearing everywhere. My breath caught as my attacker slid into me.
	I let my hooves drop away from his chest. My head tilted back. I groaned into the gag. There was no pain, no pain at all. Just the absolute bliss of a sensation I had never felt before, as if the suit had turned my whole tailhole into an erogenous zone, one giant G-spot, like the sensitivity of the head of my cock spread all the way up into me. And his thick rubber cock was driving like a piston into me. I begged in wordless, silent cries for mercy from the intensity of the pleasure. My body flopped limp, a helpless prisoner to the suit. And for a while, I thought no coherent thoughts of any kind.
	My hooved hands slid down my tummy to cup my rubber cock between them. Whether or not it was me or the suit making me do that, I didn’t know and I didn’t care. I squeezed the shaft hard, rubber flexing against rubber, and felt the surge of pressure on my cock, my real cock, locked away within. If the feeling in my rear felt like heaven, then this felt like...heaven with icing on top.
	“Marcus,” hissed a voice. A figure was moving through the hall, stepping gingerly over the writhing Nulls. It was Kannon. “Marcus, where are you?” I jerked my head towards the voice, but I couldn’t see him properly past the tangle of limbs. Just a moving shape and little more.
	“Marcus? No, damn it. Are you Marcus? Nod if you are. Was that a nod? Yes? No? Fuck...”
	I tried to sit up, but the Null fucking me pressed his hooves into my chest and drove me back down. The expressionless mask of his face hung above me as he thrust his hips and pounded my rear with mechanical precision, like a machine performing a duty. If ever I wanted to speak, now was the time for it. I wanted to yell at this guy and throw him off me. Who was he under that suit? A mouse? A tiger? A wolf? A sports fan? A nerdy geek? A total stranger, fucking me like I was some toy, and acting like a toy himself, thinking with his cock and not his mind. How long had he been in the suit? The thought of a five year stretch of imprisonment as a Null chose that moment to chill me. I beat my hooves against the Null. If I didn’t get Kannon’s attention, I was screwed!
	“What are you doing, Kannon?” It was Mikey’s voice. And I saw Kannon freeze and look up towards the ceiling.
	“Just...running some checks.”
	“You’re not supposed to be in here. Get back to the labs. You can run whatever checks you like tonight, when they’re in the teasing cycle, okay?”
	I watched, helpless, as Kannon retreated back towards the door. I couldn’t call after him. All I could do is wriggle under the constant, blissful fucking, rubbing my cock between my hooves, thoughts barely managing to hold together. It took me a long time, perhaps hours, I couldn’t tell, to come to the realisation that, no matter how hard he fucked me, and no matter how much I rubbed my rubber cock, I didn’t seem to be getting any closer to orgasm.
	An unknown eternity later, with no sweat or aches or tiredness to mark the passage of time, just the unending arousal and grinding pleasure of constant, frustrating fucking, the lights brightened. My companion yanked his cock free from me, splattering lube onto the floor. I felt the suit go rigid, gripping me. It carried me along for the ride as it brought me to my feet, standing me to attention. Around me, every single one of the army of Nulls did the same thing. Together, we formed a grid, perfectly aligned, perfectly still. If it weren’t for the smears of glistening lube all over our bodies and the floor beneath us, we’d look smart and presentable.
	“Okay, boys and...well, boys,” came Mikey’s voice. “Until we get your storage chambers back up and running, you’re overnighting where you are. Once everything is back to normal, you can go back to your duties. We’ve got some very tired and hungover staff who are dying to get their hands on you sexy lot again. Are you excited?”
	Silence, of course. I clenched my eyes shut, huffing a silent groan through my nose. My balls felt achy, like they had been kneaded in a pair of strong hands for a few hours. They had a definite weight to them. If I didn’t blow my load, I was going to have a bad case of blue balls. It’s not good for a bunny to go for long without release. It’d drive him mad.
	Where the fuck was Kannon? I longed to hear his voice again, to hear that he had fixed everything and was getting me out of this nightmare.
	“I’ll take that to mean you’re excited,” said Mikey, a laugh in his voice. “Activating the stimulation cycle now. Sleep well, you lot. See you in eight hours.”
	With a loud clack, the room went dark. I stood stock still in the cold and eerie silence for a few moments. I could hear only the soft wheezing breath of my nearest neighbours. In some way, it gave me a small amount of comfort: at least I wasn’t totally alone in my imprisonment.
	The teasing began so slowly, so gently, that I couldn’t really pin down when exactly it started. My cock, which until now had been utterly numb unless something was touching the rubber cock on the outside, now stirred as the slick latex lining that gripped it began to undulate, squeezing in slow waves down the length of my cock. I exhaled a sharp gasp. It was a milking motion, slow and horribly evil, like a finger and thumb wrapped around my shaft and slowly drawn down to my tip, before starting again at the base. Long, agonisingly slow strokes, each lasting more than a minute, by my shaky counting. And all the while I was stuck totally immobile, screaming inside my head and straining my muscles in a futile attempt to buck my hips, to reach down and stroke my cock, to give myself anything except this glacial frustration.
	Around me, I could hear the breathing of the other Nulls grow louder. They were panting with short, ragged breaths, just as I was. I tried to imagine it: hundreds of suited guys all around me, each one having their cock stroked and teased, each one aching for an orgasm that the suit wasn’t going to give them. Did they all really sign up for this? Willingly? And...would it have felt any less of an unbearable torture for me if I had done the same, instead of winding up here accidentally?
	I bit down hard on my gag and tried to whimper. Five years, like this? Oh god no.

?????? 2000?

I could only tell that days were passing due to the cycle of the routine, but I had given up all attempts to try and count them. I thought I could keep track. I thought I could keep my mind focussed, in the absence of complications and distractions. But the frustrating tedium of this regime ground down any motivation to form complex thoughts: it was better to let my mind go blank and just ride through it all, passive and unresisting.
	We spent each night now in our own individual storage cupboards, each one resembling in size and shape an upright coffin. The interiors were painted white, lit by a glowing patch in the ceiling that never switched off. The numbers “683” faced me on the inner surface of the door, only inches from my nose, stencilled in dark blue paint. It was my designation. As if that mattered. I had yet to hear anyone call me by that name.
	In our cupboards, we would be expected to sleep. But in reality, sleep was difficult. For eight straight hours the suit teased our cocks, with slow, deliberate milking strokes, never changing speed, never deviating. By the morning, when the door opened and the suits marched us out, I was always exhausted and miserable, my balls aching, my cock feeling raw. And I could tell the other Nulls felt the same. I had no real way of knowing that, but I got this...this intuition that it was true.
	We would then be marched by our suits into the big hall, where we would wait for a long time, stood in total immobile silence. Or we would be forced into another wild orgy of sex, right there on the floor. And forced is the right word. Though the suits let us move with our own volition, the constant lustful ache in our crotches left us only one course of action to take, even though we all knew that we could never satisfy the need, never scratch the itch. We all tried anyway, holding onto a pathetic shred of hope that perhaps we might beat the suit and attain orgasm while we fucked our peers. So far, I had not had any luck.
	Other days, we would be sent out into the offices above. We would spend our days kneeling, under desks or in front of couches, putting our mouths to use sucking on the cocks and clits of the staff, while they worked or casually chatted, as if such acts in public were perfectly ordinary. I longed for those days: they were the only time where I might get a glimpse of Kannon. Maybe I could get his attention, let him know it was me inside the suit, find out what he was doing to get me out. But fate was keeping me away from the rodent: days passed, and I caught no glimpses of him.
	We would be fed, in a sense of the word, in the evening before we went back into the cupboards. A thick, gloopy paste was forced down our throats from a valve in the tip of our gags. It felt cold and slimy, and I imagined it wouldn’t taste very nice. Mercifully, not a drop of it ever touched my tongue. I longed for the taste of food again.
	Throughout everything was the burning sense of unfairness. I didn’t sign up for this. I didn’t want this. A freak accident got me here, and only because of some stupid computer glitch was I stuck like this. I wondered constantly what Kannon was doing. Was he going to find me, amongst all these identical copies? Was I going to have to wait the full five year term, stuck in this torturous encasement?
	I heard his voice, coming into my ears as if he stood right next to me, one night in the cupboard, while the suit teased my cock.
	“Marcus? Can you hear me?”
	I struggled to speak, to cry out, elated. But I only produced a wheeze through my nose.
	“I have a feed on your suit. I can’t believe I finally found you. If you can hear me, tense your cock. I’ll be able to pick up on the bio-feedback.”
	I did as he asked, twitching my aching hardon inside the slick latex.
	“Ah, you can hear me! I’m so pleased. Listen, I don’t have much time, so I’m going to have to be quick. I’m sorry it’s been so long. I had to go through the computer records one entry at a time, trying to find which suit you had ended up in. So much had been completely wiped in the crash: it was amazing I could even find you at all. And all the while I had to be discreet about it. If anyone found out why I was snooping around...”
	I clenched my eyes shut, tears forming. So much relief. I was going to be free. He had found me, and he was going to save me. It was all over. I could go home. I could finally cum. I wasn’t going to have to spend five years like this.
	“I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news, Marcus. You see, I wouldn’t just get fired if they found out that I had let some random guy see the suits, and then got one stuck inside it. My employers aren’t exactly...well, let’s just say they’re not totally above board. If they found out about this, I’d be facing a bullet in the brain. Or worse...they might throw me into the test chambers, probably to spend the rest of my life suffering inside one of those suits. And you know what that feels like, don’t you?”
	I heard him sigh. I strained against the suit, screaming silently.
	“I can’t risk getting caught. My life’s on the line, you have to understand. I’m afraid that means I won’t be letting you out of the suit.”
	I screamed my thoughts at him, as if he could hear them. I twitched my cock over and over. If he could read that happening, then he could see my desperate spasms, begging him, cursing him, pleading...
	“And I’m afraid the news gets even worse. See, when they peel the suit off of you when the five years are up, they’re going to discover what had happened. Even if you stay completely silent and don’t tell them anything, they’re gonna know from your DNA and stuff like that. They’ll track down who you are and match you up with the missing person’s report, and it’ll all fall into place and point straight back to me. I’ll be a gonner. And I can’t let that happen. I’ve got a life, you know? I can’t let it be ruined by one silly little accident.”
	I bit as hard as I could onto the gag. I had to cry out to him. I had to be able to communicate. I couldn’t just listen to this, completely helpless, unable to say anything! The tears ran down my cheeks, under the blank face of the rigid suit. Nothing I did was making any difference.
	“So, I’ve made a change to your schedule. You’re not on a five year test any more. I’m afraid...I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how it must feel for you, to be stuck like that, to suffer day after day. You have to believe me that it wasn’t my fault. It was just bad luck, you know? If I let you out, they’d kill me and they’d kill you too. At least this way, one of us gets to live.”
	Another sigh. I felt like I was going to faint. His words burned through my mind, making me giddy, making me want to throw up. And all through it, the suit kept on teasing me.
	“I’ve put you onto the lifetime testing schedule. I’m really sorry, Marcus. Really, truly, sorry...”
	I heard a click, his voice gone. Nothing now but the silence and my own breathing, and the constant, slow teasing of the suit. I stared at the numbers on the door in front of me, tears in my eyes, and tried not to think about the years stretching out before me...tried to just let my mind go blank. Tried...not to think. To just fall into a catatonic stupor.
	It would be better that way.