Subject: Numesy And Notesy's Busy Day (NSFW)
Author:
Posted on: 2015-10-07 23:24:00 UTC

((OOC: The name is a reference. The first person to figure it out and explain EVERY PART gets free badfic in a pairing of their choice. Answers to the address you normally send angry letters. =] ))

((Further OOC: This is extremely, egregiously NSFW and NSFB, so please exercise due caution. It is also liberally peppered with misogynist and leeringly racist slurs of the kind made by the (generally male, uniformly slavering) more MRA-inclined writers of bad het that clutter up the Internet like a rotting seagull in a drainpipe. If you are triggered by such things, please take this into consideration; it is intentionally objectifying and disgusting, representing the personal politics of someone who likely considers themself an 'incel' ('involuntary celibate', for those who don't speak Turd) and 'nice guy'. I would also ask that readers remember that the views of this character are not my own, to the point where if I met the little used sanitary towel of a human being I'd probably punch him. Quite a lot. But only if I couldn't find a bottle.))

---

AN: Yes, this story concerns the BEST TIME LORD, and yes, there may be some AU elements. DWI. Any flames from antiporn feminazis will be used to chargrill blue steak, pictures of which you will find on my MRAtkins blog "Protein: Food Of Alphas".

The Notary checked her makeup for the fifth time. Appearances were important, she had always said; without looking like you meant business, you couldn't get what you wanted. She selected a vivid lemon-yellow lipstick to match her eyeshadow and applied it liberally to her face, puckering and popping her lips just so before applying the lacquer. The lippy went into her bra strap in case she needed to reapply it later, but only because the F-sized cups were fully occupied by her soft, mocha-tinted twins. Upon reflection, she decided to hide a little something extra in her ample cleavage. Hopefully it would be a pleasant surprise.

She slipped slinkily into the bruise-purple latex suit, adjusting the transparent gas mask over the top so that passers-by could see just who she was - the thought of them seeing her and knowing her for the slut she truly was made her shiver with incalculable pleasure. It clung to her ample frame deliciously, the rubber squeaking and straining as her gorgeously firm twin sticky toffee puddings of buttocks were forced into its tight embrace. Her long hair of raven was decorated with golden chains, like stars in a winter's night, and the zipper on the front of the suit pushed her wondrous cleavage up further, like two giant Maltesers half-dipped in the nice plum sauce you get served in upmarket Chinese restaurants. She looked very much like she felt she deserved to look; like an object, suitable for one use alone; the pleasure of others, sometimes her fellow women, sometimes her betters.

Time Lord hauteur was all very well, but it totally disintegrated when presented with a genuine alpha male, the daddy she'd never had, the strong presence she'd always craved.

God, she thought, I'm getting juiced up just thinking about it.

She checked her zips were all firmly zipped - not that a good tug from a brawny, hairy, manly arm wouldn't free her body for use - and, with a wiggle her dusky, bootylicious bod was forced to give from the rubber suit's built-in eight-inch stripper heels, she set off in pursuit of her incentive, her raisondette, her reason for being. A proud and beautifully alpha man.

A man such as Agent Supernumerary.

This man was tall and strong, his customary suit hiding the body of a veritable Adonis, his regal demeanour and pale skin as sharp and striking a contrast to the Notary's seductively exotic shade as his perfectly-tailored black Hugo Boss suit and tie were to the woman's latex and heels that left both so little and so much to a suitably red-blooded imagination. Numesy, as he let his peers call him, had finished his daily workout in the gym, and was therefore rereading The Fountainhead. Some of the other agents meditated in their time off, but that was something only sissies did. The real man, Numesy knew, was always at peace with himself; if one had to find it by sitting still and humming in the manner of some foreign mystic or other, well, that was indicative of bluepill-thinker status.

The door opened and in she walked, a vision in slippery-slick rubber and the gas mask that (to the delight of all) prevented her from speaking, only grunting... or moaning. Numesy barely even bothered to look up; idly, he stubbed out his cigarillo in the cut-glass ashtray and pointed to his knee with it, turning a page with his thumb and nodding sagely at another of Ayn Rand's beautifully expressed ideas. Alas, reading it again would have to wait.

The Notary giggled a little in anticipation as she tottered over to the alpha male's knee, though (knowing her place) she took the time to pour him another Bourbon and let the ice plink into the glass before bending over him, her fecund, purpure rump wiggling in delight at the thought of what she was about to receive. Numesy, on the other hand, was entirely unmoved. He was a male; she was a female; this was simply how things were. She was prepared for his manliness as might any female in the animal kingdom for her commanding and controlling alpha, or as she might have done in days gone by before the SJWs had taken over the media and Internet. He simply closed his hardback The Fountainhead - as a real man, he had no need of a bookmark, knowing what page he had been on - and switched to Anthem instead. He always had liked a good horror story.

A single swish through the air to test his swing, and Numesy brought the hardback volume of The Fountainhead down hard across the Notary's jiggling, latex-covered buttocks, the two plump hillocks of such chocolatey delight they might have been found in bowls of Coco Pops allowing a delicious rush of submissive desire and lust for the hand of a real man to run through her slender but amply-tittied form. Again the book fell, as hard as he bothered to, while all the Notary could do was lean forward and let her whole body move to the blows, womanly chest bouncing and swaying (her breasts were those of a real woman, which is to say entirely natural), backside reddening beneath the semi-translucent latex of her slinky, gracefully feminine catsuit - and when it came to people of her colour, the fact that she was reddening up as quickly as she was right then was a testament to Numesy's majesty as a real dominant man, for only an alpha male of the highest rank and order could raise such a beautiful shade of crimson from a humble, womanly bootay in such a short space of time.

The spanking went on until Numesy had finished reading Anthem, during which the Notary was brought to dizzyingly intense orgasms simply from being so close to such a perfect incarnation of masculinity, and would have been even had he not been obliged by her very presence to swat her twin hip-mounted spacehoppers with the pinnacle of Objectivist literature, and therefore literature in general. He closed the book, crashed the other into the Notary's beautifully ripe backside one final, deliciously sensual time, drained the last of his Bourbon, and snapped his fingers. Her booty still swishing and shimmying like the balls of a mahogany executive desk toy, the Notary rose to her killer-heeled feet and set about refilling Numesy's glass, removing the used ice and giving him some fresh. When she turned around, he was entirely naked, his scepter of Ares standing proud and free, and she was as lost to it as any female would be in such a situation. She almost didn't realise she'd fallen to her knees in preparation for him, but the silly girl had quite forgotten she'd put her gas-mask on, and Numesy was obliged to discipline her with the back of his hand. Thus chastened, she turned again, presenting him with her womanly entrance, and as he unzipped her to get at her prize, she noticed the door was still open.

And then he began to make hard, strong, manly love to her, and she didn't notice anything for several hours thereafter.

Reply Return to messages