Kat Fucked Up Pt. 04

"How is she?" came The Client's voice over my shoulder.

"Sleeping," I replied without turning to look at him. "Other than from breathing, she's barely moved in the last two hours."

"Amazing. I've only ever known one interviewee before Miss Turner who was able to take my entire length."

"The one The Cage was intended for?" I asked, but I already knew the answer.

"Correct. How did she feel...after?"

"We didn't exactly talk. I--"

"No," The Client interrupted. "I mean, how did her vagina feel to you? Different?"

I shook my head. "Same. Slicker, if anything. Maybe. Sorry to disappoint."

"On the contrary. I'm pleased, not disappointed. Quite pleased. Even the original interviewee The Cage was intended for felt, to put it diplomatically, more accommodating after the first time. Miss Turner has exceeded my expectations. In fact," he added, "there's something special I've tried with several other interviewees but all were disappointments in one way or another. Interested?"

"It depends," I ventured. "I know Kat. She won't want to continue to do this for free. She has plans. If she keeps coming here, she'll likely want to be financially compensated for the time she's missing from otherwise more pecuniarily-friendly activities."

"How does ten thousand dollars sound?"

"Given your cryptic description, it sounds like it's not enough. She makes that in a night at Billy's."

"You mistake me," The Client responded with a hint of sarcasm. "I'm offering ten thousand dollars for every night she's in the warehouse. Cash. Or wired to an offshore account in the Bahamas or the Cayman Islands, if you wish me to set one up for you. I have no loyalty to Billy. Until Miss Turner, he'd only ever sent me potential interviewees who didn't make it through the pre-screen, and it's my understanding he didn't truly refer you so much as you found your way to me through him."

"We need his network," I argued.

"I do not; therefore, you do not. If it makes you feel better, we can provide some limited compensation to him out of the proceeds of your continuing activities here."

"Billy likely pocketed nearly fifty thousand dollars from hosting Kat's events without saying a word to Kat or I and that likely would have kept on going as long as we were oblivious," I told the "client" somewhat bitterly. "I have no loyalty to Billy either."

"Then it's settled. Aside from that, I'll agree that you can continue to film and I won't ask for remuneration, only access to Miss Turner on reasonable notice for anything I want and your agreement not to film me or disclose my identity. I'll even have a crew come in to build a soundstage and moveable set pieces. They can make the far southwest corner--the corner to our left--look and feel like an apartment or home. That corner also has plumbing stub outs. We'll even make the washroom accommodations more comfortable.

"Of course," The Client continued, "you're welcome to film anywhere in the warehouse, and I'll provide you with carded access. Come and go as you want, whenever you want as long as you don't disrupt anything that's already going on here. That courtesy extends to my current tenants as well. Please do not disrupt their businesses."

I nodded. "I'll talk it over with her, but she may want more than ten thousand dollars for 'anything' you want."

"For special or particularly...strenuous activities, I'd expect that she and you would want to know substantially more before agreeing. Why don't we limit 'anything' to activities reasonably similar to those she's already been engaging in? As for special activities, we can discuss those opportunities as they arise."

"I'll talk to her, but that satisfies me." I was too tired to act or speak with any emotion. I assume The Client mistook it for calculated negotiation.

"Wonderful. May I treat you to breakfast? I'll have my driver pull around to the loading dock."

"Is it actually breakfast time?" I asked, sounding confused.

"Close enough," he replied simply. I could hear the smile on The Client's face. "It's almost seven."

"I didn't realize we'd been here for nine hours. I'm famished. I imagine Kat is, as well."

"I've made arrangements for her," The Client gleefully responded, "though I imagine she'll be asleep for quite some time, given her degree of exertion." I felt his hand on my shoulder. "Come. We can discuss details and some of my more general ideas."

###

Despite our detour, Kat and I arrived at Billy's nearly two hours early. True to her word, Kat had climbed into the backseat and kept her pelvis tilted upwards for the entire 45 minute drive to let my come soak her womb before the night's events. She'd giggled and joked with me how difficult it was to keep that much come inside her. When we arrived, the parking lot was empty aside from Billy's shit-brown 1977 Dodge. Kat used a tissue to do light clean-up, then jumped out of the car, and strode confidently into Adult Books.

The conversation wasn't pretty. While Kat argued calmly and confidently, Billy was red-faced and shouted obscenities and accusations. Kat only lost her cool once, when Billy threatened to expose her across social media and call her boss, whose identity he'd discovered thanks to the Texas Tribune. Kat shut him down swiftly and coldly, telling him none of that mattered because we'd already decided on a career change for her, and hammering her point home by asking him if he'd noticed she wasn't wearing a mask this time.

Ultimately, Billy softened his stance when Kat told him she wasn't after anything he'd received from her appearances before and their arrangement could continue indefinitely as long as he agreed to split the proceeds evenly from each event going forward. She was after all, she told him, the one spending six to seven hours on her back. Billy told us he figured she could only do this for so long before she got bored or the crowd did. "Every ice cream turns into vanilla if you eat it every night," he quipped, attempting to make light of his seriously-altered position.

Since some of the men had informed Kat, she knew exactly what Billy was charging and told him she would know if he was shortchanging her. He agreed to pay her portion in cash, in advance, with overages paid afterwards, then disappeared into the management office only to emerge a few moments later with a bundle of hundred dollar bills.

"You can count it," he said, "but those are bank fresh. That's eleven thousand dollars." We maintained our poker faces but a look passed between us. "I got a hundred and fifty, give or take, coming this weekend in ten groups of a dozen or so each to participate, and another hundred or so in ten roughly equal groups to watch. If any of those elevate to participation, they'll pay cash. We'll settle up at the end of the night."

Billy gave us his office to lounge in while we waited for the men to start arriving. Since the negotiations with Billy took considerably less time than we expected, Kat decided she wanted to give my sperm a second head start. As I had earlier, I came deep inside her though not in nearly the same quantity as before and, as she had earlier, she lay down on the disgusting brown-and-orange couch and kept her pelvis tilted upwards until it was time to greet her customers. She again lightly cleaned up.

As promised, Kat announced to everyone that she was no longer on birth control, demanded condoms, and, in the middle of her first tryst, discarded the condom and announced that it didn't feel the same, "consequences be damned." Some men mildly protested, but Kat ultimately serviced 139 men over that weekend with all injecting her fertile womb with their seed. Even with copious amounts of super-slick lube, she was sore and exhausted after a hundred.

After the last one left and Kat had cleaned up, Billy insisted on a turn. He ordered her around and, in great contrast to her arrival, she obeyed immediately and without question, doing everything he demanded including rimming his ass. Instead of coming inside her, he made her lay on the floor and prop her pelvis up. He demanded that she hold herself open while he jerked off into her open pussy. "I want you to see how much there is," he grunted, and grinned as she watched wide-eyed as rope after thick, viscous rope squirted into her gaping pussy.

She shuddered as he used the head of his cock to push any stray drops into her opening. When she announced she needed to clean herself up again, Billy ordered her to leave it in and not clean up. "I heard you talking in the office before we got started," he sneered. "I want you to ride home in the backseat all tilted up like you said and go to sleep like that. Leave it in there until it leaks out on its own. I'm potent as all hell. I got ten among four exes, plus eight bastards. I'd bet you all the money I've made off of you that you'll end up with my ninth bastard."

To my surprise, Kat clamped her hand over herself and stumbled into the parking lot. We turned onto Highway 71 as the sun was coming up, with Kat fast asleep in the backseat, a travel pillow under her rear and her pelvis tilted upward, her hand still firmly clamped over her pussy.