I actually prompted this, but then I couldn't get it out of my head. Even more embarrassingly, I couldn't even stick to my own own prompt as the story evolved.
----
“How is he this morning?” Wesley asked as he entered the basement facility.
“Charming as ever,” Harry answered, flipping a switch on the instrument panel in front of him. He held a button down on the panel, and then spoke into the microphone. “The bathroom door is open now, Matt.”
On the large monitor in front of them, they watched as Matt listlessly rolled himself off the bare bed, and said, “Thanks, Harry. Can I have the radio on?”
“Sure, what channel?” He asked over the comm.
“News. Something local.”
“One of these days you'll surprise me and ask for sports.”
Matt grinned, then paused at the padded door. “Never gonna happen.”
The view on the monitor changed to a camera inside the bare shower stall, as Matt entered, stripped off his black T shirt and sweat pants, then stepped under the steaming spray.
“Quiet night?” Wesley asked, as he perched on the edge of the control desk.
“Nothing on the logs,” Harry replied, as he punched at his keyboard and selected a news channel to stream over the speakers built into the ceiling of the padded cell. “Looks like he slept right through.”
“That's good news at least,” Wesley replied.
“Report,” Wesley said, as he folded his hands together and placed them on the flat surface of the fold down table.
Matt let out a humourless snort and ran his hands through his damp hair.
“Matthew, why do you have to make this more difficult than it needs to be?” Wesley asked with a sigh.
“Oh, believe me, this isn't half as difficult as I can make it,” Matt replied, leaning back in his chair.
Matt had been almost co-operative at first, once he had been properly subdued.
When male fertility dropped to almost zero without reason & the government had offered substantial financial rewards to any still fertile male to come forward and donate to a national sperm bank, they hadn't bet on someone from the private sector making those men significantly more substantial offers.
It had actually been Wesley's idea, to move into this new market. They had been in the middle of clearing out tenement blocks, in between waging a war against a masked vigilante and a woman who just wouldn't quit being a thorn in their sides, when this new opportunity had presented itself.
It quickly became clear that this business was going to be more profitable than anything they had ever encountered before. Unlike drugs, where supply could be upped to meet demand until the market was flooded, fertile semen was so rare that they could set their own price, and people were still so desperate for children that no matter how high they pushed the price, people would still pay it.
Fisk quickly ended all his other business enterprises. His plans to improve Hell's Kitchen were forgotten, and he ended his associations with all the crime syndicates he was doing business with.
With his catalogue of willing, and handsomely paid, donators, Fisk soon had enough money to invest heavily in his business, and built his own tower block, named after himself, in the centre of Hell's Kitchen. Offices, medical facilities, an insemination clinic and a sperm bank were built on the lower floors, while higher up the building, Fisk created luxury apartments for the fertile men, to ensure no other operation would tempt them away.
Fisk's business was entirely legal now, but it wouldn't stay that way.
There were a few publicly minded individuals who had refused all offers, preferring instead to go with the government initiative, but when demand outstripped supply, Fisk issued orders for those men to be picked up off the street and placed in a newly built secure basement facility, where no one would ever find them.
They only ever successfully found one man, and it just so happened that it was Matthew Murdock.
He put up a hell of a fight for a blind man, and it didn't take them long to put two and two together and realise that the person they had locked in a cell was in fact the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Fisk had wanted to put a bullet in his head straight away, but Wesley persuaded him on an entirely different course of action, once he had explained the financial advantage of keeping him alive.
At first they merely observed; watching how his unusual abilities worked, and then brought in a doctor to surgically remove his left ear drum. They weren't sure it would work, but Matt had howled when he came round from the anaesthetic, and flung himself off the bed. He stumbled round the room, tripping over a chair, and collapsed onto his hands and knees on the floor.
When Wesley entered the room and Matt took a swing at him, his punch swinging wide by six inches, he knew they had won. They had tamed the Devil.
They kept it secret at first, but soon a few select, trusted, clients were offered a unique opportunity. Instead of choosing the father of their child based on family history of illness or hair and eye colour, they were offered a chance to have their child fathered by a unique individual. One with special talents, who was fit, strong, and brave. What parent would choose the human equivalent of a pony to be the father of their child, when they had a derby winner in their stable?
Matt's semen sold for five times more than any other man at the facility, once they had finally convinced him that co-operation was a lot better than being hit with an industrial cattle prod until his skin was seared with burns and he was writhing breathless on the floor.
For six months business was good. They were bringing in monthly what their previous criminal activities had generated in a year, and apart from the man they had held in their basement, everything in the operation was legal and above board.
And then a new client had come to Wesley with a proposition. He was a crown prince of a small country, and he had heard through his close associates that they had the devil at their disposal. The prince was distrustful, and wouldn't believe their claims until he saw Matt with his own eyes, and then he announced that he would pay ten times the going rate for a live insemination.
Matt had refused point blank, and even with his back a weeping mess of cattle prod burns, he had refused, until Fisk appeared in his cell and gave him a simple choice.
“You will go in that room and fuck that woman,” he said. “If you don't, I will fuck you until you bleed.”
Matt had relented, and suddenly they had a waiting list of rich customers who wanted live inseminations. Within a year the money they had earned from Matt had paid for the entire costs of building Fisk Towers.
Wesley had delivered the rules to prospective parents so often he recited them by rote.
“When you are ready, press the buzzer on your left. The door will open and Matthew will enter. He will be ready and it will not take him long, so be prepared for that. And most importantly, whatever you do, do not touch him. The last person who did that left without their teeth.”
“I-is this safe?” one of the parents would usually stutter.
“As long as you follow the rules everything will be fine. We have a team just outside, simply as a precaution, should you fail to follow the rules.”
For the first year Wesley had watched Matt's appointments with the dispassionate eye of someone watching a financial transaction. Truth be told, there was actually very little of interest to watch, as it was usually over so fast. When the buzzer sounded, Matt would stand on his side of the door with his hand down his pants, then he would push to door open and walk into the room like a boxer entering a ring. In less than a minute he would always be back in his own room, stalking around the bed until the door to the shower was opened.
It all changed when Fisk & Vanessa decided they wanted a child.
“You know the rules, sir?” Wesley had asked outside the appointment room.
“Rules?” Fisk asked amusedly. “He belongs to me. I want the cameras off and I don't want any interruptions.”
“Sir, if he should become violent-”
“IF he becomes violent,” Fisk interrupted, “I will handle it myself.”
Four hours later Fisk and Vanessa had emerged from the room laughing, and the medical team had dragged Matt's unconscious body back to his cell.
FILL: Matt/Fisk/Vanessa. Matt/Others. Infertility. Non con. Part 1
----
“How is he this morning?” Wesley asked as he entered the basement facility.
“Charming as ever,” Harry answered, flipping a switch on the instrument panel in front of him. He held a button down on the panel, and then spoke into the microphone. “The bathroom door is open now, Matt.”
On the large monitor in front of them, they watched as Matt listlessly rolled himself off the bare bed, and said, “Thanks, Harry. Can I have the radio on?”
“Sure, what channel?” He asked over the comm.
“News. Something local.”
“One of these days you'll surprise me and ask for sports.”
Matt grinned, then paused at the padded door. “Never gonna happen.”
The view on the monitor changed to a camera inside the bare shower stall, as Matt entered, stripped off his black T shirt and sweat pants, then stepped under the steaming spray.
“Quiet night?” Wesley asked, as he perched on the edge of the control desk.
“Nothing on the logs,” Harry replied, as he punched at his keyboard and selected a news channel to stream over the speakers built into the ceiling of the padded cell. “Looks like he slept right through.”
“That's good news at least,” Wesley replied.
“Report,” Wesley said, as he folded his hands together and placed them on the flat surface of the fold down table.
Matt let out a humourless snort and ran his hands through his damp hair.
“Matthew, why do you have to make this more difficult than it needs to be?” Wesley asked with a sigh.
“Oh, believe me, this isn't half as difficult as I can make it,” Matt replied, leaning back in his chair.
Matt had been almost co-operative at first, once he had been properly subdued.
When male fertility dropped to almost zero without reason & the government had offered substantial financial rewards to any still fertile male to come forward and donate to a national sperm bank, they hadn't bet on someone from the private sector making those men significantly more substantial offers.
It had actually been Wesley's idea, to move into this new market. They had been in the middle of clearing out tenement blocks, in between waging a war against a masked vigilante and a woman who just wouldn't quit being a thorn in their sides, when this new opportunity had presented itself.
It quickly became clear that this business was going to be more profitable than anything they had ever encountered before. Unlike drugs, where supply could be upped to meet demand until the market was flooded, fertile semen was so rare that they could set their own price, and people were still so desperate for children that no matter how high they pushed the price, people would still pay it.
Fisk quickly ended all his other business enterprises. His plans to improve Hell's Kitchen were forgotten, and he ended his associations with all the crime syndicates he was doing business with.
With his catalogue of willing, and handsomely paid, donators, Fisk soon had enough money to invest heavily in his business, and built his own tower block, named after himself, in the centre of Hell's Kitchen. Offices, medical facilities, an insemination clinic and a sperm bank were built on the lower floors, while higher up the building, Fisk created luxury apartments for the fertile men, to ensure no other operation would tempt them away.
Fisk's business was entirely legal now, but it wouldn't stay that way.
There were a few publicly minded individuals who had refused all offers, preferring instead to go with the government initiative, but when demand outstripped supply, Fisk issued orders for those men to be picked up off the street and placed in a newly built secure basement facility, where no one would ever find them.
They only ever successfully found one man, and it just so happened that it was Matthew Murdock.
He put up a hell of a fight for a blind man, and it didn't take them long to put two and two together and realise that the person they had locked in a cell was in fact the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Fisk had wanted to put a bullet in his head straight away, but Wesley persuaded him on an entirely different course of action, once he had explained the financial advantage of keeping him alive.
At first they merely observed; watching how his unusual abilities worked, and then brought in a doctor to surgically remove his left ear drum. They weren't sure it would work, but Matt had howled when he came round from the anaesthetic, and flung himself off the bed. He stumbled round the room, tripping over a chair, and collapsed onto his hands and knees on the floor.
When Wesley entered the room and Matt took a swing at him, his punch swinging wide by six inches, he knew they had won. They had tamed the Devil.
They kept it secret at first, but soon a few select, trusted, clients were offered a unique opportunity. Instead of choosing the father of their child based on family history of illness or hair and eye colour, they were offered a chance to have their child fathered by a unique individual. One with special talents, who was fit, strong, and brave. What parent would choose the human equivalent of a pony to be the father of their child, when they had a derby winner in their stable?
Matt's semen sold for five times more than any other man at the facility, once they had finally convinced him that co-operation was a lot better than being hit with an industrial cattle prod until his skin was seared with burns and he was writhing breathless on the floor.
For six months business was good. They were bringing in monthly what their previous criminal activities had generated in a year, and apart from the man they had held in their basement, everything in the operation was legal and above board.
And then a new client had come to Wesley with a proposition. He was a crown prince of a small country, and he had heard through his close associates that they had the devil at their disposal. The prince was distrustful, and wouldn't believe their claims until he saw Matt with his own eyes, and then he announced that he would pay ten times the going rate for a live insemination.
Matt had refused point blank, and even with his back a weeping mess of cattle prod burns, he had refused, until Fisk appeared in his cell and gave him a simple choice.
“You will go in that room and fuck that woman,” he said. “If you don't, I will fuck you until you bleed.”
Matt had relented, and suddenly they had a waiting list of rich customers who wanted live inseminations. Within a year the money they had earned from Matt had paid for the entire costs of building Fisk Towers.
Wesley had delivered the rules to prospective parents so often he recited them by rote.
“When you are ready, press the buzzer on your left. The door will open and Matthew will enter. He will be ready and it will not take him long, so be prepared for that. And most importantly, whatever you do, do not touch him. The last person who did that left without their teeth.”
“I-is this safe?” one of the parents would usually stutter.
“As long as you follow the rules everything will be fine. We have a team just outside, simply as a precaution, should you fail to follow the rules.”
For the first year Wesley had watched Matt's appointments with the dispassionate eye of someone watching a financial transaction. Truth be told, there was actually very little of interest to watch, as it was usually over so fast. When the buzzer sounded, Matt would stand on his side of the door with his hand down his pants, then he would push to door open and walk into the room like a boxer entering a ring. In less than a minute he would always be back in his own room, stalking around the bed until the door to the shower was opened.
It all changed when Fisk & Vanessa decided they wanted a child.
“You know the rules, sir?” Wesley had asked outside the appointment room.
“Rules?” Fisk asked amusedly. “He belongs to me. I want the cameras off and I don't want any interruptions.”
“Sir, if he should become violent-”
“IF he becomes violent,” Fisk interrupted, “I will handle it myself.”
Four hours later Fisk and Vanessa had emerged from the room laughing, and the medical team had dragged Matt's unconscious body back to his cell.
The same thing happened for the next 2 days.
After that everything had gone to hell.