I rested for three days while Sissitrix and their team worked tirelessly downstairs, assembling the Fuck Factory.
Occasionally, I visited my mezzanine exit vent, peering below, taking account of their progress. I was surprised with how quickly different design, fabrication, and activity areas were set up and running.
By day three, over a hundred staff members were busy assembling or getting stuck into their project work. Forklift trucks and hand pallet transporters used freshly painted yellow lane ground markings to weave around the highly polished concrete floor.
Massive air-conditioners with dust and pollen filters were installed at one end, pushing through fresh, clean air.
Considering the tumultuous changes my new friendship had brought, I took stock of my life while tossing a small basketball into a hoop while I lazed on a beanbag. Forays into the night were no longer necessary because Sissitrix had already paid me, and we agreed on a tariff for my availability.
I would gradually become wealthy.
My cervix and pussy walls ached, but then, it was my first-time gang bang, and a couple of the bull’s cocks were immense. I would change nothing about that crazy, incredible day, not even the many toilet trips I made through the first night to empty warm semen.
On my third morning post-inaugural gangbang I lazed around my home until boredom ravaged me, and I dressed, then excitedly descended to our growing workshop floor.
Most engineers and technicians knew me because Sissitrix had ensured I was respected and given access to all areas. My friend soon tracked down me and strolled alongside me, grinning gleefully.
“How have you been these past few days, Unseen?”
“I feel a bit sore, but that is oddly satisfying. I haven’t felt horny until today.”
“Cunnilingus?”
“Is that an offer, Sissitrix?”
“If you would like it, yes. I have a new design for a toilet that offers an opportunity to bring pussy together with tongue for a financial transaction. The pussy in this trial case would be yours.”
“It sounds exciting. To whom do the tongues belong?”
“My final design can be installed anywhere, but the original commission came from a lady’s netball team. The coach believes the installation of three units in a toilet block will raise funds.”
“How?”
“The design is coin or credit card operated. Come and see.”
We strolled around the workshop floor while Sissitrix described some projects that were partly assembled and others that were a collection of crates, tools, and more of a work in progress.
We wound up at what could only be described as a lady’s toilet block, exquisitely designed and decorated. The ceramic, mosaic-tiled floor felt ostentatious, with a peacock design sprawled across the entire length and width. Larger wall tiles were arranged in a baby blue and white checkered pattern.