In her uncomfortable, small bed in her cramped, small bedroom, Kat frustratedly tossed her book to the side. The other wives in the parlor were too loud and she couldn't concentrate at all on the text. She could hear them laughing, and by the sheer frequency and volume, she guessed that they had opened up a few bottles of wine between them. Guiltily shifting on the bed, Kat could guess why.
Amber was the youngest wife, and she had made the mistake of sneaking around with Mark behind Negan's back. Negan found out – of course, he would find out – and Mark had half his face burned off. It looked like it was going to be even worse than Dwight's, because the eyelid on Mark's left eye was completely gone. He'd need eyedrops or water to keep it from drying out. That meant spending points he didn't have. Naturally Amber was completely devastated about it. She felt guilty and responsible for the situation, but Amber's way of coping was primarily blaming Kat – because Kat was the one to tell Negan.
Kat didn't mean to tell Negan, but in a fit jealousy, it just slipped out. Kat used to be the youngest wife before Amber, but then Amber came and stole all of Negan's attention. He didn't even try to split himself evenly among them anymore. The other girls were relieved, because they saw this as a job, but Kat being a fool (at least she was aware of being a fool) loved Negan. And then Amber had to go and cheat on Negan as soon as he started going back to other wives, and Kat hated it.
Now Kat felt even more horrible about it, though, than when she hated Amber. Maybe now Amber would be calm enough to accept Kat's apology. With a sigh, Kat climbed out of bed, abandoning her book, and left for the parlor.
She was right to assume that they were drinking, but rather than wine, they went straight for beer instead. They were all sitting in a circle, Michaela and Amber on the couch, Tanya and Frankie sitting across from them. All of the wives looked different from each other as Negan liked a variety from his women. Looking at them now, Kat could see the appeal from Frankie the masseuse and Amber's sweetness and Tanya thriving off being used and abused and Michaela's beautifully curvaceous body. And Kat was jealous because she couldn't offer him any of that. All she had was her love, but he couldn't know that she loved him. He'd sneer, well maybe he wouldn't, but there was no way he could love her when there were these beautiful women. Kat felt small, and briefly wondered what he could see in her compared to them.
Before she allowed her mind to wander any further, she dragged her eyes away from the women and focused on the glass coffee table in the center of the parlor. On it were several beer bottles, but one was empty and on its side. Blinking, Kat addressed the parlor at large when she asked, "You're playing Spin the Bottle?"
Suddenly all eyes were on her, and they were anything but friendly – especially Amber's daggers for eyes, brimming with tears and red-rimmed from both the tears and the booze. There would be no apology tonight. Michaela, out of all of them, was the least resentful, though; Kat shuddered to think why, consumed with the fear that Michaela knew that Kat loved Negan. Until Michaela brought it up, though, Kat would accept her indifference warily. As it is, Michaela was the one to finally respond to Kat. "We're using the bottle in that way, except instead of kissing, we're playing Truth or Dare."
"Oh." Kat didn't bother to ask why she wasn't invited. Suddenly, Kat noticed the empty tray on the table with the stems from fruit left over. It seems they had also deliberately neglected to call her to dinner with them; now that really irked Kat. Feeling a little awkward, Kat was unsure of what to say.
Taking pity on Kat, Michaela cautiously offered, "Would you like to play?" The other wives immediately shot Michaela a look of reproach, making it clear to Kat that she was unwanted.
That didn't stop Kat from grasping the tentative olive-branch anyway. She gladly accepted Michaela's offer, "Sure." And there the awkwardness grew when Kat had to squeeze in on the couch. Michaela was the barrier between Amber and Kat, and all Kat could hope for is that that would be enough.
Once she was seated, Frankie set down her beer and cleared her throat loudly. "Alright, let's play." Using a lot of force, Frankie spun the bottle, and they all anxiously watched it spin.
Fingering the hem of her black dress, Kat was well aware that the laughter she had heard in her bedroom was now nonexistent all because of her. It gave her a sour taste formed in her mouth. "Is there anymore beer?" She casually asked, wondering when the bottle would finally stop spinning.
"No," came Amber's resounding answer, and Kat bit her lip.
Then Kat noticed that Sherry was missing. "Did Negan summon Sherry for the night or did she finally volunteer her time?" The way the system worked is that unless Negan specifically requested a certain wife, the wives would rotate among each other to spend time with Negan. For Kat, it was a dangerous game to play, to walk a balance so that they wouldn't know just how willing she was to be with Negan. For Sherry to go to Negan on her own terms now, though, after everything, that would mean she had finally submitted. And that would mean Kat wouldn't see much of Negan for a long, long time.
"Actually," Tanya began, a tremor of unsureness in her voice, "We haven't seen Sherry much today." Now Frankie shot a look of reproach at Tanya, and her mouth closed with an audible click of her teeth.
Kat's brow creased with concern. She thought Sherry had been getting better. Wherever she was now, this couldn't bode well, not that Kat would complain. That small part of her – the part that learned to kill to survive and had enjoyed doing it, the part that conveniently dropped hints to Negan about Amber's infidelity – hoped Sherry would be out of the way so that she could have Negan to herself. Kat would do anything to have Negan be hers, and that meant he brought out the worst in her. "That still means someone has to go to Negan, though."
The wives shared looks with each other, a little uneasy. When Negan came back, the Sanctuary had turned into a hive of activity. The prisoner Daryl had escaped, there was a new prisoner, and Fat Joey was dead. Losing Sherry might push Negan over the edge. Besides, he might blame them for not looking out for Sherry or not coming to him sooner.
Finally, the silence was broken by Frankie. "Looks like the bottle chose you, Kat." It was true. The mouth of the bottle pointed squarely at Kat's lap, at knee level. "So, truth or dare?"
"Dare," Kat shrugged. She'd rather not admit truth if that meant revealing her love for Negan.
Frankie took a dainty sip of her beer, and then smirked. Suddenly, Kat wasn't so sure if she should have played this game at all. "Well, since you brought it up, why don't you go suck up to Negan some more and rat out Sherry, now. It comes so naturally to you after all."
Immediately, Kat's cheeks flushed red, but rather from shame, from anger. Before she could retort, though, Amber joined in. "Frankie's right." The blonde girl stood and wobbled unsteadily on her feet. She swayed and stumbled drunkenly towards Kat, and jabbed her finger in face. "You're a kiss-ass," she slurred lightly, "a brown-noser! A fucking sycophant bitch for that psycho asshole!"
Now, Kat could handle Amber smearing her name in the mud. Kat knew she was a horrible person, she knew Amber had a right to be upset. The girl was drunk, too, and Amber never drinks, so this was hitting her hard. But she felt Amber had no place to insult Negan. That crossed a line for Kat. She was on her feet before she knew it. "Fuck you, Amber," she snapped. "If you don't want to be with Negan then leave. You're here by choice. He's your husband, and if you hadn't fucked Mark, then Mark's face wouldn't be fucked up!"
At that, Amber broke. She slapped Kat across the face while simultaneously bellowing out a broken sob, and it took everything in Kat not retaliate. Negan hated when his wives fought. Catty shit he could handle, but cat fights were a big no-no. Amber only slapped Kat once anyway before she tripped over herself to go to her room, fat tears streaming down her face, wailing loudly. Michaela followed to comfort her, but Frankie and Tanya stood and circled Kat like vultures. "Just go, Kat," Frankie started in a low and menacing tone, "You got what you wanted. Negan is all yours."
Cupping her stinging cheek, Kat leveled her gaze with Frankie. Frankie was the unofficial leader of the wives, and often she and Kat had disputes over Negan because Kat had issues with sharing. Hearing Frankie say that, though, Kat smiled maliciously. "You're right. He's mine." And with that, Kat left for her husband, feeling marginally better.
...
When Kat slipped into Negan's bedroom, she could hear the shower running, and she smiled happily now. She debated whether or not she should join him, but decided against it. Considering how upset he was earlier, she figured that he should use the shower to relax. Besides that, she was hungry, and Negan had a plate of sandwiches on his coffee table that was calling Kat's name. Sitting on the couch and munching a sandwich, Amber's words played in Kat's head like a skipping record, over and over again.
Fucking sycophant bitch.
Fucking sycophant bitch.
Fucking sycophant bitch.
Kat believed it. Since the beginning, Kat has done whatever was necessary to survive – kill, steal, didn't matter. To Kat, her survival was everything, everyone else be damned. Then the Saviors formed, and Kat was very tempted to join so that she could have extra perks. She was skilled enough to survive, she could do the job. But then she heard about Negan forming a harem, and Kat immediately 'auditioned' and got in the exclusive club.
Falling in love with Negan was never part of the plan, but it happened anyway. For one, the sex was fantastic. That was obvious enough. But then there were Negan's tender moments. He talked to Kat a lot, told her things that he made her promise not to tell the others. Eyeing the baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire in the armchair across from her, Kat remembered that discussion about Lucille's namesake vividly. And the confessions about how he didn't enjoy the killing, but made himself like it. Kat could relate considering how she would do – and has done – anything to survive. There was more to Negan than that psycho façade he had to put on, and Kat fell so hard for it.
The problem was, she doubted he'd ever feel the same. He knew about Kat's life from before, and Kat even told him about the shitty things she's done in this new world. None of it phased him, and he didn't brush it off. But his façade wouldn't allow him to just drop his wives, especially not now with what he's done to Mark and Dwight. Kat sighed, and went to his scotch stash to pour herself a shot. Now that she had apparently usurped the other wives, things were going to be more difficult now.
"Well isn't this a nice fucking surprise!" Kat whipped around, clutching a full glass of scotch to her chin. There was Negan, fresh from the shower, stark naked. Not that it was anything Kat hadn't seen before, but God, he is such a beautiful sight how he is. Rivulets of water dripped down his chest, clinging to his tanned skin and beading in his thick, black body hair like dewdrops on a spider web. He was toweling his hair dry, both arms raised up, head slightly tipped forward, and the pose was reminiscent of every underwear model poster Kat had ever seen. The best part was, though, that there was no underwear. Her eyes were immediately drawn to his sex, nestled in a nest of black curls, and her throat went dry as her own sex was simultaneously flooded with arousal.
"Go ahead and eye-fuck me, Kat, I don't mind." Negan smirked and wrapped the towel around his neck. All of his black tattoos were on display, and his muscles were flexing beautifully, so Kat continued to eye-fuck him freely. "I've had a long fucking day," Negan continued, walking towards her confidently, not bothering to cover anything. "And I could use wonderful fucking company like yours, Kitty-Kat." He took the glass of scotch from her, and kissed her sensually before he took a gulp.
Appreciatively, Kat watched his Adam's apple bob before she finally dragged her eyes back up to his again. She licked her lips in memory of their kiss, and then smiled at him softly. "Hey Daddy," she placed her hands on his chest, rubbing up and down, "what would you like me to do to help you feel better?"
Immediately, he hummed appreciatively, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. It was his turn to eye-fuck her. "Oh, I can fucking think of several things." His head dipped forward to kiss her again, but then he paused, eyeing her critically now. Negan set the empty glass down, and gently cupped her chin. "What the shit?"
Her eyes went round, and she stilled under his touch. There was a dark look in his eye that promised trouble and vengeance. She waited for him to explain, not necessarily afraid for herself. He never laid a finger on them that they couldn't say 'no' to if they wanted.
Sure enough, Negan was muttering darkly again, practically hissing and spitting like a cat that had its tail stepped on. "What the shit is this? What the hell, Kat? Who the fuck laid a damn hand on you?" Ever so gently he brushed his thumb over Kat's cheek, and she drew back tenderly.
Evidently, Amber slapped her hard enough to leave a mark. Kat frowned, and turned her face away from him, ducking her head. "I'm sorry, Negan. It's nothing I can't handle."
"No, Kat," Negan started sternly, "No. You know that no one can lay their hands on any of my wives, and I can't fucking stand violence against women. You tell me who it fucking is. I will beat the holy hell out of them – and I don't even need Lucille to do it. What the fuck happened?"
Sighing, Kat looked back at Negan. He had his jaw clenched, brows knitted together, and despite it being an expression of his fury, Kat still thought that it was a lovely face to sit on. She reached up and tenderly traced her fingers over his smooth chin and up his jaw, marveling at how cute he was still without his beard. The other wives had been displeased when he came back today with this baby face, but Kat didn't care. He was such a handsome man no matter what. "Negan, do you think I'm a sycophant?"
"Fuck no," he scoffed without missing a beat. "That's what Fat Joey is – was. What Fat Joey was. Not you. Dwight is a lackey. I own everyone here like fucking cattle. Simon is my right-hand man, but you're my wife. My wives are loyal. Or they're supposed to fucking be. That's all I ask for." He tilted his head at her. "What the fuck are you asking me that stupid shit for anyway? What the hell happened, Kat, and don't make me have to ask you a third time."
"Amber slapped me and called me that for telling you about her infidelity," Kat told him flatly, "and now Sherry's missing, and they're making me tell you that since apparently they think all I do is kiss your ass." Looking up at him, Kat urgently assured him, "But it's more than that, I promise you, it's," she choked on her words and switched tactics, "Sherry's missing. We haven't seen her since right before you left. I'm sorry, I should've told you sooner."
For a moment, Negan was quiet, and then he was swearing up a storm. He stepped away from her, marching up and down his room, tossing his towel to the floor with frustration. Kat listened to him rant, not moving an inch, just observing quietly.
"Fucking Sherry! Shit, shit, shit. Why'd she have to do this to me? Always making things so damn difficult, that bitch. After all the shit I do for her, and this is how she fucking treats me! No damn respect! Fuck, fuck, fuckity fucking fuck! Damn it!" If he had had Lucille in his grip he would've slammed her down to vent his pent-up frustration.
Just as suddenly, though, he changed his tune, murmuring mostly to himself. It helped him plan to pace and think out loud, and he trusted Kat enough to not go run her mouth. "Dwighty Boy was not involved. He was with me in Alexandria. There's no way he could've know. Maybe Daryl used her to escape, took him with her. Can't have her spilling secrets to Rick. Or maybe she just fucking left. Shit. I'll have to let Dwight out of the cell and send him after her. Only he would know where the fuck she got off to, only he could convince her to come back. And if he doesn't come back, I'll find them both and kill them. This is what's gonna prove that Dwight is loyal and can be trusted as a lieutenant, that he can run the replacement outpost when we set that shit up. That's what I'll fucking do."
Then Negan stopped, and turned on his heel to face Kat again. He shook his head at her, leaning back on his heels. "Amber slapped you, huh, Kitty Kat? Did you beat her ass for it?"
"No. She was drunk and upset, so I…" Kat trailed off and shrugged. Her eyes dropped down to his sex again, and she swore that she saw it twitch. Was he getting hard at the idea of her and Amber fighting? She glanced back up at his eyes again, not missing that heated look.
He shook his head from side to side, gnawing at his bottom lip. Negan leaned back against his bed, hands propping himself on the mattress. Again, he was eye-fucking her. Looks like Kat was going to get her time with Negan before he'd finally let Dwight out of his cell. Lifting one hand imperiously, he crooked his fingers in a come-hither motion without saying a word.
Obediently, Kat moved to him and stood between his outspread legs. "Such a good girl all for me, Kitty Kat," Negan began, and smiled at her crookedly. "I knew there was a reason you were always my favorite fucking wife."
At his praise, Kat pressed her thighs together, seeking relief. "Daddy," she simpered happily, "let me prove to you how good I am."
"That's what I like to fucking hear," Negan crowed proudly, and reached between his legs to grasp at himself. "Yeah? You gonna strip yourself down and put on a damn good show for Daddy? You gonna get on your knees and worship Daddy's big cock?" He shook his cock for emphasis, and it was already at half-mast without her even having to touch him or flash her tits. Kat flushed with pride, remembering how Negan said that just her talking in this sex-voice could get him hard.
"Oh, yeah, Daddy," Kat cooed with a small grin. "You know I love – to please you, Daddy." She had nearly slipped up, but seamlessly recovered. Eagerly, she twisted around. Her hair was swept aside and she tugged ever so slowly at her zipper until inch by inch of her back was showed. Once the zipper was completely undone, resting between the two dimples above her rear, Kat glanced over her shoulder at him and playfully shook her hips. Negan chuckled at her, his hand periodically squeezing his cock at he watched her, enraptured.
Pleased with herself, Kat turned back around and let the black dress drop to the floor. Now she was standing in her blue lingerie, and the panties were next to nothing, crotchless, but that's not visible from the back. Negan was in for a surprise when she turned around. Her bra, however, would have to go first. The bra unhooked in the front, so when she undid it and pulled her arms loose, she tossed it away, and it caught on Lucille's barbed wire.
At that Negan practically growled, "Fuck, Kitty-Kat, you know how I love to see my ladies in pretty, lacy things. You're so cock-hardening, and now even my Lucille is wearing a little something for me. Damn, I didn't know she looked good in blue, too."
"Oh, if you like that, then you'll love this, Daddy." Twirling her hair around her finger, Kat giggled and finally faced him again. Her breasts were bare, nipples already hardened into buds in sweet anticipation and her sex was already dripping as well, her arousal clearly visible.
Well, Kat wasn't wrong. At the sight of her, Negan instantly groaned and started moving his hand up and down his shaft. His other hand come up and cupped his balls, rolling them in his calloused palm. Christ, Negan touching himself was one of the sexiest things Kat had ever seen, and she'd never get used it. She hoped she never would. "Shit, Kitty Kat, I want you to leave those panties and the heels on when you climb on my dick tonight. Alright, Kitty?
"Yes, Daddy," Kat purred as she sunk down to her knees and crawled between Negan's legs, hooking his ankles around her hips. "But first I wanna taste Daddy's big, juicy cock." She peeled his fingers away from his cock and balls, pushing his hands down on the mattress on either side of his hips. Despite all their little roleplaying, Kat was never one to be totally submissive, and Negan loved it. Kat always took as much as she gave.
Settling back comfortably, Negan watched as Kat gripped his thighs with her hands and pushed his legs even further apart. Her mouth dropped down and littered his thighs with suckling kisses, leaving hickeys in its wake. The tip of Kat's nose trailed over the 'v' of his hips after the drag of her lips. Kat's breath was damp and warm on his sex, a ghost of what her mouth would feel like, and Negan couldn't wait. Kat loved to tease as much as Negan did, but Kat had infinitely more patience than him. Negan would always get needy and whiney first when he was with Kat, but that's just because she knew exactly how to get him going with the simplest of touches. "Come on, Kitty Kat," Negan cajoled her, "I've had a rough damn day. Don't be so fucking mean to me. Daddy doesn't deserve that from his Kitty Kat. Be fucking sweet for Daddy."
"Oh, I know Daddy, don't worry." Her nails bit into his skin a bit, warning him to be patient. She soothed what pain their might have been with sweet kisses. "I'll be sweet for you, Daddy, because you're always so sweet for me." And to prove her point, she tongued the slit of his dick, swiping away the pre-cum beaded there. She moaned at the flavor, playing it up, because really Negan's come was bitter, but still better tasting than most come Kat has tried. Kat licked at him again, and Negan head dropped back. "So fucking juicy, Daddy."
Then Kat's mouth was chasing Negan's dick into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the sensitive head. The head of his cock was dragged over her kiss-swollen lips as if she were applying lipstick, periodically flicking her tongue out to taste him. His pre-come glistened on her lips like a gloss, messy how he liked it. Her eyes met his, and his eyes were dark and smoldering with barely contained lust. "Fuck, just like that Kitty-Kat. Your mouth is fucking perfect and feels damn amazing. Shit."
With a smile on her lips, she dragged her tongue all over him, as if she were painting a picture. Each stroke of her tongue alternated in pressure, sometimes so teasingly light as a feather and other times suckled at the sensitive under gland just right. Kat was playful with his cock, letting him beat it against her face, and nuzzling at it affectionately with her nose as she took his balls into her mouth for some worship, too. Still, she continued to tease, not yet giving him the suction or pressure that he needed. Negan was going to have to beg her for it if he wanted that.
And beg her he most certainly did. "Fuck me, Kitty Kat, please just suck on my dick. You're busting my blue balls over here. I ought to fuck your pretty mouth until I punch your teeth down your throat with my dick for how badly you're abusing me. Fuuuck, please, Kitty Kat."
Anything but bothered by Negan's nearly incoherent babbling, Kat finally gave him what he wanted and took his length into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down rhythmically. She had no problem taking his considerable length since she just loves fellatio. It's an art to deep throat while fighting the gagging reflex and being able to catch all the come on one's tongue.
Often, she laved it with little kitten licks, small and wet and soft. It was her specialty, and how Negan gave her her cute little nickname. Each wife had a different one. Sherry was 'Puppy Dog' since she acted like such a bitch, so it was more facetious than sincere. Amber was simply 'Baby' since she was the youngest and shyest. So on and so forth. Truthfully, Kat was grateful for the differentiation between them. Negan never got their pet names mixed up, and they all liked that.
Now, though, that got Kat thinking about what Amber called her.
Fucking sycophant bitch. Amber wants to call her that and a kiss-ass, well, then by all means Kat should prove her right.
Buckling down, Kat sucked Negan harder, and eased him all the way down until the bridge of her nose could nestle against his pubic bone. The maneuver had her eyes watering, but it was worth it when she swallowing and the head of Negan's cock bumped against the back of her throat, choking her just right.
He had been grunting like a porn star so far, but at that he found his words again, "Oh, fuck, Kitty Kat, you know that makes me come, God! Fucking do that shit again! Fuck! I'm gonna come!"
So, she did it again, and again, and then finally Negan did shoot his creamy spurts down her throat, which she gulped down happily. Kat lived to please him. For all his shallow thrusting and the sinful noises that poured so quickly and easily from his lips, she was more and more aroused herself. She was glad her panties were crotchless, because otherwise, they'd be soaked.
Pulling away, his cock slid from her mouth, and Negan sighed. Kat licked her lips at him and hummed, "Fuck, Daddy, that was so sexy. You tasted so good, and you're so big. I fucking love your big cock." She batted her eyelashes at him, smiling. Her smile pressed kisses on his thighs again as Negan basked in that warm bliss after a killer orgasm. But she was far from finished with him.
Reaching down at the apex of her thighs, Kat gathered up her own arousal on her fingers. Soft and sweet kisses tickled at his thighs, and she admired his clean taste and the scent of soap still clinging to his skin. Slowly, she played with herself, winding tighter, but not close enough to distract herself from what her mouth was doing. She dragged her tongue from the back of his knee all the way up his inner thigh right to his – "Kitty Kat, Kitty Kat, Kitty Kat," Negan chanted at her, "What are you doing?"
Taking her time, Kat let her actions answer his question first as she circled her tongue over his tight ring of muscle. She pressed her lips to him and sucked, snaking her tongue out to lave him with saliva, traces of his come smearing around his little hole. Fresh from the shower he was clean for her, and there was no taste other than the usual flavor of Negan's skin. Kat liked this. Negan did, too, apparently. He trembled against her, but didn't pull away, as equally intrigued by the sensations. Her tongue ventured in shallowly, flicking, and Negan grunted.
Withdrawing briefly, Kat finally explained, "What does it look like, Daddy? I'm kissing your ass. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"
Before he could answer her, Kat dived back in, her tongue strokes more confident now. She pressed her face closer to him, and Negan helped her by gripping his thighs and ass in his hands and spreading himself for her. Kat backed away for a moment to breathe and take in the pretty picture, and she had to wonder if this … this pride is what Negan felt when a beautiful lady did the same for him. "Oh, you're so handsome, Daddy. So beautiful. Has anyone ever kissed you ass as good as your Kitty Kat?" Her mouth returned to him to continue the tongue-fucking as she waited for his response.
"Fuck," Negan gasped, voice hoarse but pleasant to Kat's ears. "Fuck, I've touched myself there loads of damn times. Used a few kinky toys, but no one has ever – fuck!" His speech broke off into a series of groans as Kat's index finger gently slid inside. The insertion was made easy by her spit and her own fluids of arousal. Curious, she slid in to the hilt, twisting her finger and curling it, searching for his prostate.
"Oooh, fuck, Kitty Kat right fucking there!"
Well, she had found it. She stroked, watching in rapture as Negan bowed his back, head so far thrown back that she could no longer see his handsome face contort in pleasure. The grip he had holding himself open made his knuckles go right and his skin pinch and redden from the force. Negan's cock, just flaccid a few moments ago from his orgasm, was now hard again. It laid untouched and twitching on his stomach. The head of his cock nestled into his navel teasingly, his pre-come generously leaking and catching in his happy trail.
As Kat continued to curl her finger, loosening him up in preparation for me, her other hand had three fingers already buried in her cunt. She'd hold off her orgasm for now, but if she timed this right, they both could come simultaneously. Until then, she curled her fingers and circled her thumb around her clit, teasing herself. Kat didn't think he needed her rubbing his cock for him to come like this.
"Please, please, fuck, Kitty Kat, more. I need more. I'm so fucking close!" Negan hissed through his clenched teeth, jaw ticking, tendons in his neck standing out in full relief.
In response, she giggled and obliged him with another finger. She scissored him now, really stretching him out, deliberately neglecting to touch his prostate again. "So close already, Daddy? All for me? Your Kitty Kat is gonna stretch you so wide, Daddy, but you love it, don't you?"
"Yessss," he hissed eagerly, and his jaw was wound so tight Kat was actually afraid that he would accidentally crack a molar. "Fucking pound me with your fingers, I can fucking take it. I want more, goddamn it!" Negan pushed his hips forward, so demanding. Kat expected as much from him considering how bossy he normally was anyway.
Very pleased by how responsive he was, Kat gingerly slipped in a third finger and vigorously thrust in and out rather than curling. Her other hand was doing the same now, and her thumb was tapping against her clit. Both of them were very close, but whereas Negan babbled about his oncoming orgasm, Kat got very quiet and very still. Negan meanwhile shook like a leaf, and squirmed his hips around, his inner walls clenching around her fingers tightly. He was just a huge ball of nerves, whining and desperately rocking against her fingers, his cock neglected and nearly purple now as it begged for release.
Kat rocked harder into her own hand, sucking and biting hard on her bottom lip to muffle her sounds. All she wanted to hear was Negan's keening and the obscene sound of their mutual wetness as her fingers plunged, pillaged, and plundered for their sweet spots. She could sense when they were both on that precarious precipice, nearly there, nearly there. And then she crooked her fingers, rubbing hard against her G-spot and the same movements were repeated with Negan's prostate.
Despite the delayed reaction, Negan came first, his come reaching all the way up to just under his freshly shaven chin in three thick spurts. Uncaring about the mess, he shouted her name and various other vulgarities and profanities loudly. His curses echoed off the wall, and Kat believed that they could be heard throughout the whole Sanctuary. And she wanted everyone to hear him, from the wives to the walkers so that they would all know that she did this to him, that only she could bring him so much pleasure –
And then she was coming at that thought, thumb ruthlessly mashing down on her clit. She squirting into her hand, the fluids puddling on the floor beneath her. "Oh, Daddy," she squealed, and rode through her orgasm, prolonging it and squeezing out another albeit smaller one.
Negan was going on a similar journey, hips still gently rocking into her hand, milking her fingers for another orgasm. He was just greedy that way, so damn insatiable. Kat wouldn't have him any other way. Well, he got his wish, and more come was spurted on his chest, curling around one of his erect nipples. With that last weak orgasm, he relaxed around her fingers, too tired to do anything else.
Pulling her hands away from him and herself, Kat examined her hands with interest. The pads on her fingertips were slightly wrinkled and very, very wet. She licked herself clean, trying to remember how to think and how to breathe while she did it. Then she shakily climbed to her feet, knees sore from kneeling for so long, and muscles pleasantly relaxed. She leaned over Negan, examining him proudly, a smug look on her face and a smirk tugging her lips. The look was very reminiscent of the expression Negan normally wears, but the tables were effectively turned tonight without a doubt.
Docile and sleepy, Negan laid on his back and dropped his legs down, fingers still in a curling position, though he clutched nothing but air. His chest was heaving hard, and it made the come on his torso drip down to the bed, though he couldn't find the energy in him to care. He stared up at her with half-lidded eyes and a parted mouth, a tempting sight for Kat despite having orgasmed so intensely already.
"Oh, Negan, such a mess." Kat shook her head at him with a smile, and gathered up his come with her fingers. She scooped it up to his mouth, tapping it against his lips, and Negan's tongue came out and weakly flicked at her fingertips. She knew he liked the taste of himself, and she didn't stop feeding him his come until most of the big spots were collected. "There you go, all gone."
Then Kat climbed on the bed, and flopped beside him. She herself had made a mess on the floor that Negan would probably make her lick up later, but she figured it could wait for now while they cuddled. Negan got cranky without his cuddles, too, she knew for certain.
"Kitty Kat?" Negan finally drawled as he pulled her into his side.
"Yes, Negan?"
"I think I'm going to toss my other wives for you."
Surprised, Kat went still and quiet, unsure of how to process this. If she weren't so damn tired, she'd drag herself up to look at him, but in lieu of that, she just waited for an explanation.
Sure enough, Negan explained unprompted, "None of those others can satisfy me like you fucking do. The whole point of me forming my harem was so that I could get pussy whenever I fucking wanted. I've got a voracious fucking sexual appetite, you know. But those other wives, they don't fucking do it for me anymore. It's like a damn chore with them. That's what masturbating is for, for shit's sake.
"Besides that, those bitches are just horrible. So damn bratty and too much effort to maintain. They cause too much damn trouble for me, and they can't follow the rules I set for them. They aren't loyal, they aren't sweet to me, they aren't worth the hassle." His tone shifted to something softer as he continued, "Not like you, Kat. You do so much for me that I don't expect you to. It's fucking nice to be treated like I'm human. To just fucking let go and relax and trust that someone else can handle something. I'm always fucking large and in charge and as much as my ego sings and that gets me hard, it can be fucking stressful. But with you, it doesn't have to be that way all the time, and I just fucking love being with you." Earnestly, he insisted, "I love you, Kat."
Now she finally did find the strength in her muscles to push herself up. She stared at him hard, and he gauged her reaction, his gaze steady. "I love you, too, Negan," she finally admitted. It felt good to do that. She'd wanted to say it for so long and saying it now, knowing he felt the same, it felt so right. It was as if the world had stopped shifting around beneath her feet and just clicked into place. Kat finally knew where she stood with him.
Negan smiled at her, his tongue poking out a bit between his teeth, and his eyes were crinkled at the corners in his glee. Dimples flashed at her, his smile blinding, and he just beamed and beamed and continued to beam. "Tomorrow," he promised her, "I'm going to send the wives to the new guy, Eugene."
"A test?" Kat hazard a guess.
"To see how fucking loyal they can be," Negan confirmed, "and a test for Eugene, too. See if he can find the damn light and recognize just who is on the winning side here."
Kat nodded her understanding, the conversation lapsing into silence. Negan made the first move, leaning in for a kiss. Despite their mouths being equally filthy, they kissed anyway, and it was languid, drinking each other in, tasting themselves on each other. It was a heady experience. Finally, Negan pulled back, grinning mischievously. "Now," he began, "about that ride, my little Ass-Kisser."
"I prefer the term 'sycophant'," She countered him with a smile as equally wide and bright as his.
"Get the fuck over here, Kitty Kat."
"Yes, Daddy."
