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Another day, another mystery. The Doctor paced around the console room, bouncing idea after idea off no one in particular.
He was alone and bored and getting nowhere with all the pointless nervous pacing and frantic scribblings on his blackboards.
There was only one way he could get to the bottom of this mystery.
The Doctor’s enthusiastic fingers moved to unbuckle his belt and dragged his trousers down to his knees. He wrapped his hand around himself and started wanking with an eager smile on his face. He watched himself as it grew in his hand, and gasped in excitement when it happened.
“Finally! You have awakened!” the Doctor said to his penis. His penis blinked back in confusion at him, still disoriented from its sleep. Their faces looked the same, attack eyebrows and all, and it brought him comfort. Even his mess of gray curls sat atop his penis, it looked just like him, only, of course it was a cock.
“What do you want?” his penis asked, disgruntled and overworked.
“There is a problem, and I was hoping we could discuss-”
“No!”
“You are my genital and you will listen to me!” the Doctor yelled down at his penis, Sigma.
“I’ve barely had enough sleep, Doctor. The last time you touched me feels like minutes ago!”
“I will be the judge of time.”
The Doctor felt a blow to his groin. His penis had detached from him in a swift movement and was now running away with its little legs, which doubled up as his testicles. They were still connected, much like a wireless earphone, so as his balls bounded across the Tardis floor, he could feel it.
“Sigma— get back here!” the Doctor yelled and lunged at it.
“You are very annoying, Doctor! I am just a penis and I want sleep!”
“Doctor?” another voice called out from behind. The Doctor turned around in shock. It was Clara, his dear Clara, who, at the moment, had her gaze fixated upon his bare groin. He had forgotten that he was waiting for Clara to come back to the TARDIS.
“What are you doing?” shrieked Clara, horrified by the sight of the Doctor’s lack of genitals.
The Doctor spotted movement at the corner of his eye and quickly reached out to grab it, a defiant snarl playing at his lips.
“Clara, you should have knocked!” the Doctor said angrily as he turned his back to her once again, forgetting that his bare, white arse cheeks were still hanging out in the open. Clara could not look away. Despite the bizarreness of it all, she thought his arse cheeks looked particularly delicious.
“Help! Help!” Clara heard the Doctor’s voice yell out. “Shut up! Shut up!” Again there was the Doctor’s voice, too, it sounded like there were two Doctors yelling at the same time.
“Doctor, what is going on?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Clara? My penis is having a tantrum, so it detached itself from me and I need it back. There!” He yelled as he threw himself onto the floor, black trousers bunched up at his ankles now, his pale legs and arse cheeks out on display.
“Oh look,” the penis said, looking up at Clara from where it stood, “you again. It’s nice to see your face for once while I’m not being shoved-”
She screamed, the Doctor frustratedly trying to hush her.
“Your penis- Doctor, your penis is talking! It has a face! Surely I would have noticed this before!”
He grinned confidently as he pushed himself along the floor in a slow, slug like motion while his penis was off guard, and with a quick swipe the girthy cock was writhing in his hand.
The high pitched screaming that erupted from it was haunting, and following her motherly instincts she walked slowly towards the Doctor, helping him up, looking his penis in the eye.
“Hush, it’s okay,” she said in a soft voice, kindly patting its hair which made the Doctor moan, gutturally. She carefully took it from his hands, sinking to her knees, eyes locked on the Doctor’s.
The Doctor and his penis gasped in pleasure when she positioned it where it belonged, slotting it carefully back into place.
His penis tried to push away again but Clara held it in its place, stroking slowly, there was a curiosity brewing in her more than anything.
“Oh, Clara…” came the sexy Scottish drawl, “yes, I’m going to cum.”
She spat on his cock for some slide, slicking him up a little as she moved her hand faster on him, almost moaning to herself as she watched him teetering on the edge of coming undone.
And just like that, he did, with a loud grunt.
She watched curiously as his penis furrowed its eyebrows and started to growl, it sounded angry, but she continued drawing out his orgasm when she glanced up at the Doctor to see he was in fact enjoying it.
It all happened so fast, the angry looking penis staring her dead in the eye as his lips pursed, and it spat on her face its thick warm semen. She gasped, wiping it with her hand.
“Doctor it spat on me!?”
“You spat on me first, bitch!” it argued, and she stepped away, hurt and confused.
As if it couldn’t get worse for poor Clara, Nardole’s arrival carried a sort of familiarity about it when he saw the Doctor standing there, penis on display.
“Hello, Sigma,” Nardole smiled fondly, patting his penis head, “ooh! Soft, new conditioner?”
“Sigma?-“ Clara was struggling with all of this to say the least, “your penis is called Sigma?”
She watched in fascination as Nardole fed his sleepy cock a prawn cocktail crisp, the Doctor licking his lips happily like he could taste it.
“You like that?” Nardole smirked, possessively growling at the Doctor’s penis as it looked at him with seductive bedroom eyes.
“Ohh yes… Thank you, Nardaddy,” Sigma said appreciatively, closing his eyes and letting peaceful slumber wash over him, the Doctor tenderly cloaking him once again as he dressed himself.
“Sleep well, beautiful,” Nardole said, giving The Doctor’s clothed crotch a little pat, which earned him a passionate kiss from the timelord.