Chapter 2: Kitt

Thursday, September 7, 2023

London and I sat in the hospital cafeteria eating lunch, which consisted of chicken salads and protein shakes. The deeper we got into our careers in porn, the more careful we became about our diets. My gift from Lilly made my body strong and fit. I doubted I could gain much fat or lose my muscle tone. But I didn’t want to test my theory by eating unhealthy.

I exercised hard, ate smart, and drank tons of water to ensure I stayed in the best shape possible. I didn’t do a ton of heavy lifting. I didn’t want to look like a bodybuilder. I had well-defined pectorals, a six-pack, and solid arms and legs, but I didn’t look like 1970s Arnold Schwarzenegger. I was more like Thor with a little more body hair and much shorter locks.

The cafeteria bustled with activity, so much so that it was easy to miss Dr. Granger in the crowd until she appeared behind us. She touched me lightly on the shoulder, and a surge of arousal, pleasure, and stress flowed into me from her, then disappeared an instant later.

Ever since she and I shared that intense sexual encounter, we’d developed an inexplicable emotional bond. Every time we touched, even through a thin layer of clothing, we could sense each other’s feelings. However, being the extreme professional she was, Dr. Granger—or Uma when we were outside the workplace—didn’t want to be seen touching her male coworker at random times throughout the day. However, it made our sex incredibly passionate and rewarding because we were both able to discern the other’s wants and fulfill them.

And that was what our relationship had primarily become in the last two weeks since our first time having intercourse: a primal, sexual entanglement. Uma had invited me to her place twice in the last two weeks. Both times, I dropped everything and rushed over. Both times, I had found her bound and gagged with notes telling me how she wanted to be used. Both times I had willingly—even eagerly—complied, using her to my heart’s content: spanking her, choking her, slapping her with my cock, and cumming all over her. Both of us orgasmed multiple times during these sessions. Both of us got what we wanted.

Well, sort of.

I wanted a relationship with Uma. I’d been smitten with her since I first met her. How could anyone not be? She was beautiful, intelligent, professional, and sexy as hell. Now we were fucking once a week, but there was no conversation, no connection other than physical. I entered her house, read her notes, did what she wanted, and left just as she ordered.

What made it worse was that she knew exactly how I felt about her. She could tell every time our fingers touched if we accidentally grabbed the same patient file, brushed past each other in the hallway, and, indeed, every time we had a sexual collision. And while I sensed her appreciation of me, her attraction to me, and her incredible pleasure from me, I did not sense the same adoration I felt for her, nor the helpless attraction that made me do whatever she wanted.

“Can I sit with the two of you?” Dr. Granger asked, her attention directed primarily at London.

London and I looked at each other awkwardly, searching the other’s eyes for the answer. “You may ... but we’re going to be talking business,” London said. “Are you okay overhearing that?”

The doctor shrugged. “I don’t mind. Let me grab some food, and I’ll be right back. This should be an interesting lunch.”

London cleared her throat and took a large bite of her salad. I didn’t need any special connection with my porn partner to know what she was thinking. Why would Dr. Granger want to be seen eating with us?

Over the last two weeks, London and I faced enormous scrutiny at work after word of our extracurricular activities leaked. Up until then, no one at the hospital had known we made porn as a side gig. And while there technically weren’t rules preventing us from filming and selling adult content online, it certainly made things strange when you knew your coworkers knew what you looked like nude.

Representatives from the hospital’s board met with London and me to discuss the matter. The primary reason for this was to protect themselves from any potential legal fallout as word spread about our side profession. Lawyers asked us to sign documents, but we didn’t sign anything until we had our lawyers read the fine print. One of the papers they’d thrust under our noses made it so we couldn’t sue the hospital for anything related to sexual harassment due to the nature of our work. Another made us agree never to use the hospital nor its grounds as a location for any pornographic film shoot. The list went on.

From what we gathered through our lawyer, most of the problems stemmed from a single complaint made by one coworker. The complaint alleged that we had behaved unprofessionally and cast the hospital in a bad light. We weren’t told who made the complaint, but I initially suspected Bethany. My best friend still hadn’t spoken to me since I’d ditched her, half-dressed, to answer Uma’s first “SOS” call.

But I was wrong about Bethany. She hadn’t lodged the complaint. Rumors eventually reached London that it was Janiqua. My ex-flame was dating a Jehovah’s Witness and now disapproved of such illicit behavior. I marched straight down to human resources and disclosed that Janiqua and I had engaged in sexual acts in one of the hospital’s storage rooms. The next day, Janiqua formally withdrew her complaint.

Ultimately, we reached an uneasy agreement with the board of directors. London and I would keep our sexual side gig out of the hospital, and the hospital would not tolerate any unacceptable behavior from our coworkers toward us stemming from our side job.

“You’re okay with talking about our business around Dr. Granger?” London asked.

I shrugged. London raised an eyebrow at me. She had been suspicious lately of me and Uma, but I’d promised Uma I would not tell anyone about our sexual relationship, and I intended to keep my promise even if it meant lying to London.

“ ... if she’s cool with it, why shouldn’t we be? Everyone knows what we’re doing. And we’re not discussing it during work, so it won’t hurt anyone.”

“Okay,” she relented. “Let’s get started!”

I pulled a slip of paper out of my pocket and unfolded it on the table. It was all of our ideas for launching Schlong Sluts—a fully live-streamed, subscription-based access to a house filled with a harem of women dedicated to serving Super Schlong. I had taken everything we’d brainstormed and condensed it into a three-step plan, which we needed to review and approve together.

“So here’s where we are right now with our plan,” I began. “Let’s talk money first. To launch Schlong Sluts, we need to purchase a house big enough for six to ten people, get cameras and other equipment installed, furniture including sex-friendly setups, and enough capital to pay at least four models for six months.”

“Yep,” London said. “That all sounds familiar. So what’s the damage?”

I braced myself. “It’s ... damaging. The cheapest homes I can find in the greater Denver area with 3,000 square feet are between $400K and $500K. Furnishing the home will cost another $100K. That includes setting up the filming equipment, servers, and sex equipment. That doesn’t include any repairs or appliance replacements—”

“Which we’ll almost certainly need in our first year,” London interjected.

“Too true. So I’ve budgeted another $20K for that as part of another $100K for home maintenance. Now, we get to the model payment portion. We decided that to attract top talent, we need to offer models $10K a month for six months. We need to have most of that up front since we will guarantee the income as long as they fulfill the ends of their contracts. So that is roughly another $250K. Add in legal fees, food, utilities, miscellaneous expenses, clothing, and a rainy day budget for unforeseen expenses ... we’re probably looking at $1M in total, assuming you and I don’t take a paycheck.”

“We don’t have to buy the house in cash, though,” London said. A 20% down payment is only $100K on a home.”

“Right, but interest rates are sky-high. The more money we can put down, the better. Now my question is, how much money do we have between us?”

London grimaced. “I have about $50K in my checking account. But I could probably come up with another fifty in a pinch from my savings and retirement. And I would. I believe in this idea.”

I nodded. “I have about the same. I don’t know if I could come up with another fifty without going into my retirement. But if I did, I could bring $150K to the table, plus more if I sold my comic book collection.”

“Kitt...” London said with a deep frown. “That’s your pride and joy.”

“Yeah, well, if this takes off, I can buy them all back and more. Right?”

London shrugged. “I guess. What is our income at right now?”

I laughed. “Well, we both work in the same unit in the hospital and started at the same time. So we make the same, right? I make $85K a year.”

London tightened her lips and glanced away. “I make 91...” She tried to soften the blow by giving me an awkward grin. “I got a job offer last year at another hospital, and our boss matched it to keep me.”

“What happened to that whole thing about men making more than women?” I complained.

London rolled her eyes. “Be quiet.”

“On top of my meager $85K a year from the hospital,” I continued, “I am on track to net another $5K a month from FFE.”

“Holy shit, Kitt!” London exclaimed. “You’re making that much?”

I blushed a little. “Keep in mind that I barely hit that mark a month ago. It’s not like I’m rolling in the dough. I just hit 2500 subscribers.”

“When did it jump?”

“The first big jump was me making more intimate videos with you. Then, my video with Jade became very popular. Then, Fanny’s videos pulled in some new subscribers. I didn’t know this, but she has over 20,000 followers on TikTok and Instagram.”

“Wow.”

“That’s where we can massively increase our starting capital—if we get more FFE channel subscriptions. I have an idea how to do that.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your big idea?”

Just then, Dr. Granger returned with her lunch tray and sat across from me. London fell silent and took a large bite of her salad. Dr. Granger looked at her with a puzzled face.

“What?” the doctor asked.

“We were just talking about our other job,” I explained.

Dr. Granger’s mouth opened into an O shape. “I honestly don’t mind you talking about it. Hell, we all watch porn sometimes, right?”

“Wait...” London said. “Have you watched me and Kitt?”

Dr. Granger. raised an eyebrow. “Have I?”

I snickered into my hand. I couldn’t imagine Uma watching porn. She would never need to. Before I could open my mouth to respond, Uma’s sock-covered foot touched my ankle under the table. Through the thin fabric of her sock, I sensed her arousal, nervousness, and excitement. An electric thrill ran up my body, starting at my shin and ending at the tips of my hair. Her foot slowly traveled up my lower leg, then returned to my ankle.

London had no idea what was happening under the table, so I tried to play it cool. My business partner looked from me to Dr. Granger. “I just don’t know how much Kitt is comfortable with me saying around other people.”

“You can say what you want,” I assured her. “I’m not embarrassed about what we do.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Dr. Granger said. “You are two consenting adults having sex and filming it for money. People want to watch that. No big deal.”

“Right...” London gave me a meaningful look, but I wasn’t sure what she wanted to say that was such a big deal. She leaned in closer to me. “I was thinking.” She cleared her throat. “You need to make a video showing the world what you can do.” London heavily emphasized the last three words. “The things only you can do.”

I took another bite of my salad. Uma’s giddiness seeped into me. She enjoyed teasing me very much. I couldn’t tell if my face was turning red or not. Such a response in and of itself was not normal for me. I was the Demigod of sex, and yet I was getting turned on and flustered by a woman running her foot up and down my leg. What was wrong with me?

The doctor turned to me very professionally. “What is it you can do, Kitt? Because...” she dropped her voice, “ ... if I’m being honest, I’ve seen one or two of the videos you two made—pure curiosity. I promise. And while you’re very well endowed Kitt, I’m even more curious now.”

Uma didn’t know about my ability to grow and shrink my penis, an ability given to me by a mysterious, otherworldly woman named Lilly, who had bestowed this gift at the cost of me being in her servitude for, well, pretty much forever. Would it freak Uma out to know that? It seemed to me there was only one way to find out.

“I can make my penis grow and shrink pretty dramatically in size.”

Uma narrowed her eyes on me. “What?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. I can make it get really, really big or very, very small. It’s crazy, but true.”

She pulled her foot away from me, but not before I caught a hint of her confusion and mistrust. “Sorry, but as a medical professional, such a thing is just not possible. No one can do that. Erections can vary in size based on arousal, fatigue, or diet. But these are standard variations, not the kind it sounds like you are describing.”

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Doctor. It can go from about an inch fully erect to, um, pretty damn big.”

London covered her mouth as a gleeful snort escaped her mouth. She knew how big my cock could get. Too big for anyone to handle. Too big to be allowed.

“And I think it’s time to share that with the world,” London said. “Kim thinks so, too. You’re already gaining fame for your size. Imagine what will happen when people know what you can do with that thing. That can help us raise the money to get our project off the ground.”

“Project?” Dr. Granger said, her focus going back and forth between me and London.

“Schlong Sluts,” London said. “A house full of women who fuck each other and Kitt. A harem of women who basically worship Kitt’s cock.”

My face, neck, and ears went flame-red. It sounded so egotistical when we said it out loud.

“It was her idea,” I said, avoiding the doctor’s gaze.

“I’m sure it was very difficult for you to agree,” she said in a tone I couldn’t decipher.

“Have you seen Kitt’s FFE page?” London said. “Well, obviously, you have if you’ve watched a couple of our videos. He’s doing well. We think this is the next logical step. Breaking away from FFE would help us make real money.”

“I see,” Dr. Granger said. “And where are you going to recruit these Spawn Sluts?”

“Schlong Sluts,” London corrected as she eyed my partially refolded paper. “And that is one of our next steps. Our plan is to go to local college job fairs and look for four coeds interested in being adult models willing to sign an initial six-month contract.”

“Which brings me to my next point,” I added. “The first job fair is tomorrow and Saturday at the University of Colorado Boulder. I’ve reserved a table for us.”

“That’s your plan, Kitt? You’re going to recruit poor, impressionable, and, in some cases, desperate, barely-legal teens to worship your large penis for pay?” Dr. Granger’s tone of ill-concealed disgust filled me with shame.

“No.” The word flew out of my mouth. “That—that wasn’t—I didn’t. We’re not recruiting anyone under the age of twenty-one.” I swallowed hard, hoping my voice was firm enough to hide the fact that I’d just made up that rule.

London nodded along with me, and I was very thankful for it.

The doctor’s eyebrows flew up, then rested. “Oh. Good. Then you have my respect and blessing. I think eighteen is too young. People are still too impressionable. Girls have just left home, living independently for the first time. They can be easy to manipulate.”

I wanted to touch Uma to feel her emotions at that moment because there was so much weight behind her words I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to this than just a kind woman’s worry for impressionable younger women.

“Step one,” London reiterated. “Get money. Step two, get models. Step three?”

“Create content.”

The next day London and I were in Boulder at a table with a black background and a big sign behind us displaying the Schlong Sluts logo. Several people—male and female—stopped by our table to ask us if we were serious or request more information. Lots of guys were interested in fucking hot women, as strange as that might seem. We took their information but had no plans to use it. For the women, we asked if we could take face photos and full-body pictures with their clothes on. Most agreed when we promised we wouldn’t post them anywhere; a few did not. To those girls, we gave them our business cards but had no genuine interest since they were too skittish about their persona being online in any form.

While we sat, we talked. I revisited our cafeteria conversation, as it had been on my mind for the last several hours.

“You want me to show the world my gift?” I asked London. “You don’t think people will freak out?”

London shrugged. “You can do something amazing—something nobody else can do. I don’t know how or why, but you need to prove to everybody you have that gift so people aren’t calling you a fake your whole career. And, yes, I think it will bring you a ton of attention. I think your subscriber base is going to blow up.”

I texted Kimmy the same day and asked her for her opinion on London’s suggestion. Her response was interesting.

Kimmy: Yeah. It’s about damn time!!!

Kimmy: I’d be happy to help you film it...

We texted for almost an hour about our ideas. I told her I would think more before making a final decision. As I lay in bed that night, I texted Bethany, asking her if she was ready to talk to me so I could explain everything. She didn’t answer. I texted her again, telling her how much I missed her. Then I set my phone down and rubbed my face in my palms.

I had blown it. To be fair, Bethany had put me in a horribly awkward position. She had thrown herself at me, told me to have sex with her, to take her virginity. Before I could respond, she was undressing herself. Then I’d run out the door to answer a 911 text from Dr. Granger, thinking the doctor was in serious trouble. Ultimately, her correspondence had been an elaborate booty call, which I wholeheartedly gave into.

Did it have to cost me my best friend?

I left my house early Sunday morning to drive to an Airbnb in Denver. I had two video shoots with Delilah, just her and me. Kimmy wanted us to shoot more rough, raw, unfiltered stuff, so we agreed to do one outdoor scene in that vein and one indoor with a more professional, polished feel. The first shoot was on a park bench in a very secluded area. Kimmy set up two cameras and just let them run while we did a natural progression scene from making out to foreplay to sex, ultimately ending with me cumming inside her. The entire scene lasted over an hour. Kimmy planned to do minimal cuts between the two recordings.

We took a long break between filming the scenes. Usually, on days like these, we would grab a meal together after separate showers and maybe a nap. I would relax, Delilah would redo her makeup, and Kimmy would set up the next scene and start editing footage if she had spare time.

I was reading a novel in my corner of the house when Delilah came into my room without knocking. Despite us being used to seeing each other naked, we almost always wore robes or loose clothing when we weren’t filming. When she entered, I was in a pair of Nuggets warmup pants and a white tank top.

“Do you have a second to talk?” Delilah asked as she pulled her robe more tightly around her.

“Sure,” I said, setting the novel on the bed.

“I noticed you’ve been doing more scenes with just you and London on your personal FFE page. I just wondered if you’re sure that is a good idea.”

My eyebrows went up about an inch. “Why would it be bad?”

“Well, I think you and I have a lot of synergy between our channels. And London is a great person for us to bring in for threesomes and moresomes, but I worry if she becomes too regular, it will hurt us both.”

I tried to wrap my brain around that logic, but I wasn’t sure I agreed. “What do you propose?”

“It’s not my place to tell you what to do,” Delilah said, “but I want to secure our future together. That sounds weird. I’m not proposing a marriage. Let me try again.” She took a deep breath. “I want to make our business partnership more formal and long-term. Especially since we are both taking off in popularity. More offers from professional and semi-pro studios and other content producers will come. I thought we could have contracts drawn up to ensure we continue regularly producing content together. I suggest we lock each other up for two years with a guarantee of three shoots a month. What do you think about that? I’m open to more if you want.”