The Landlord

Bang. Bang. Bang.

She stared at the door. He always knocked the same mechanical way, always did his rounds in the same efficient but thoughtless pattern: first floor, second floor, third floor, zigzagging back and forth across each hall.

She looked down at the meager pile of money on the stained card table. She had been practicing the story. It hadn't been hard. It was true after all.

There had been panicky moments in the past, of course, as each month drew to its inevitable close, but something had always popped up, she'd always found an extra shift or some piece work on the side. Her mama had called it the grace of the angels and had crossed herself each time she used the phrase. Nikki had spent most of her adolescence rolling her eyes at her mama's tearful invocations of the Almighty. She'd had no time for her mama's forlorn Jesus, but Nikki had nonetheless caught herself murmuring the words more than once recently.

She wouldn't be thanking them this month. However they were supposed to be protecting her, they surely had been asleep at the wheel. After the tailpipe had finally succumbed to the slow creep of rust, she knew it was going to be tight, but Valeria's tumble had sealed it. Three stitches to close up her chin and the clinic only took cash, the cash that was quite noticeably missing from her kitchen table.

Bang.

"Hello, Nikki? It's Jimmy. Are you home?" His voice was even and not unfriendly.

She got up and walked to the door. Pausing to check herself in the mirror, she gave a practiced smile. It didn't echo in her eyes. She sighed. She certainly wasn't that glittery adolescent any more, with a spangly phone cover and dazzling lettering across her chest to match. Sure, she could still squeeze into her high school jeans, but when she did so, it was out of necessity rather than joy. She hadn't bought herself anything new in over a year, and while Carla was always generous about passing along pieces left in one of the dryers, especially girl's stuff for Valeria, it was hard to feel special wrapped in something a stranger couldn't even bother to remember.

She opened the door slowly.

"Hi Jimmy."

"Hey, Nikki." He gave her a warm smile. He always did. He was tall, blonde, dressed in a blue blazer and button-down shirt, like a prep school kid who got off at the wrong bus stop. She usually felt a little of tinge of young, dreamy excitement at his smile, a little of that old sense of possibilities and horizons and impossible dreams. That blazer had been places she'd never go. Seeing Jimmy was the closest thing her little tenement life had to a brush with celebrity. He owned the building, along with two around the block. He had inherited them from his father, along with his father's habit of collecting the rent personally from each and every tenant. Known by everyone in the neighborhood, he sponsored the rec basketball team and held an annual Christmas party for his real estate brethren at Bracci's. The following day the neighborhood teemed with whispered stories from the wait staff about the night's scandals.

"Can I come in?"

She opened the door and let him in. He brushed by her, squeezed together in her narrow hallway, his chest touching hers. The fleeting touch would have ordinarily given her goosebumps, but there was no sense of excitement today. Instead, she was filled with a quiet dread. She had never been short on the rent before, and while Jimmy was apparently a swell guy who would buy the basketball team pizza after every game, he was by all accounts from the neighborhood whispers, an absolute stickler for the rent.

He walked into the kitchen, all of three steps, and stood rather awkwardly there, as he always did. Nikki made a special point of scrubbing the kitchen the day before rent was due. Her kitchen was tiny, but it was hers, and she certainly was not going to give her mama, God rest her soul, the satisfaction of seeing Jimmy the neighborhood big man grimace at a greasy stove.

"How have you been, Nikki? How's Valeria? I ran into Carla yesterday, and she said Valeria had some kind of accident?"

Nikki looked at him. She was relieved that he already knew about the injury. It should make her story that much more believable. She was also puzzled. She had watched him enough in the neighborhood to know that he didn't ask after every tenant's kids, and yet every time he came in here, he asked about her and Valeria. It was crazy, and it was sweet, and part of her desperately wanted to see something there, but she was a girl at a laundromat with a kid and he was, well, Jimmy, and that was as far as she ever let that silly fantasy go.

"Yeah, she did. She fell off a dryer while singing that song from Frozen. She was hopping from one machine to the other, and she tripped and hit her chin on the way down. We spent the afternoon at the clinic getting stitches, but she's fine. She was actually excited this morning to show off her Elsa bandaid to her classmates."

"Well, that's good to hear, Nikki. I was genuinely worried."

Nikki smiled. Not a single person on her floor had stopped to check in on Valeria, and yet here was Jimmy, worried about her daughter. A bubble of possibility floated up. She waited for him to say something else, anything else, but he simply looked at her expectantly. The bubble popped. Of course, this was just another business transaction along his busy, shabby route.

She picked up the money from the table. She turned to him and put it in his hands, her well-rehearsed words spilling forth.

"Jimmy, I love living here, but I have had a bad month with my car and with Valeria's accident, and it was just one thing after other." The words came faster. " I don't have the rent. I..."

She choked on the words, a harsh cry erupting from her throat. All the stress of the previous week came out in a hot stream of unrestrained sobs. She was scared and ashamed, and above it all, tired. Tired of fighting and fighting and seemingly unavoidably losing. Tired of the slow realization that each day only found her stumbling farther behind her fast retreating dreams. She found herself collapsing forward into him.

He caught her. His awkwardness disappeared, and he wrapped his arms around her. His words were gentle and reassuring.

"Nikki, Nikki, Jesus, it's okay. C'mon, it's okay."

Her head was buried in his chest. She looked up at him. She had always thought of him as generically handsome, but she'd never really looked closely at him. What was the point after all? But now she was looking up into deep blue eyes, and their expression was not one of irritation or condescension but of tenderness. A man hadn't held her with any kind of tenderness in years, and now in this most awful of moments, one that she already knew she would look back on with shame, she could feel the restrained strength of his arms supporting her. He swept her hair gently aside from her face, and she let herself collapse more deeply into his arms.

"Nikki, look I don't know what to say exactly, but whatever just happened, I'm not upset. Whatever I'm feeling, it's surely not that."

He paused. More quietly "I have thought about holding you for a long time."

It took her mind a few beats to comprehend the words. Could that be possible? She pushed closer, and she could feel him now pressed against her. The urgent pressure aroused a response in her, the feelings of anger and shame and frustration turning to a hot sexual desire she had not felt in longer than she cared to remember. Without quite knowing she was going to do it, she moved her hand down to his pants, caressing him through the fabric. His breath caught, and he pulled back. The confusion and tumult disappeared from her mind, and she knew exactly what she wanted to do.

She dropped to her knees.

Jimmy went to lift her back up.

"No, no, Nikki, you don't have to do that. Please. We can talk about the rent."

But his tented khakis betrayed his words. She looked up at him.

"No, Jimmy, I want to. I do."

He pulled her up nonetheless. He was stronger than he looked, and she relented. She stood up, puzzled and embarrassed.

"Nikki. My God, look, I have dreamt about this since I first laid eyes on you. You light up every space you enter. But I can't do that. Or I mean, just that. Not like that. Not like this." He adjusted his pants, his face was flushed

She gawked at him. Not that she had offered that many, but she could not recall a guy ever having turned down a blowjob. And certainly not a guy that had just professed to dream about her.

He looked down. He was clearly feeling embarrassed himself. He looked back up at her, their eyes connected, and he stepped forward. He took her in his arms and kissed her, deeply and feverishly. She responded, and they stumbled backwards against her stove.

He broke off. Flushed, she beamed at him, but he looked at her gravely.

"First, you need to take this back." He put the money down on the counter. "We'll figure out something with the rent, but for now, keep the cash. "

"Second, I need you to understand something before this goes any further. I like you. Alot. I have since I first talked to you while you were moving in. You are sexy and sensuous and wonderful. But if we go down this road, you need to understand that I'm, well, I'm not just any guy. I will demand things of you. I will take care of you, but I will demand things, and you will be expected to provide them. It's just how I'm wired."

Nikki blinked. She was still reeling from kiss. It was still on her lips, warm and life-giving, but now this speech about demands. "Jimmy, I don't understand."

Jimmy looked at her seriously and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. He smiled and she smiled back. He spoke gently. "Let's try it this way then. Nikki, please take off your shirt."

She looked down at herself. She had put on the blue V-neck tee, conscious it was rent day and knowing full well from past compliments that this shirt apparently framed her boobs particularly well. But Jimmy's words weren't registering. Her head was floating, and her lips still burned. What did he want her to do with the shirt?

"What?" She said looking up at him.

He took a step back from her, leaning against the card table and crossing his arms. He looked her in the eyes, but the smile was gone. "Take off your shirt. Now."

Her mind protested. How dare he? But her rational mind fell back, overcome by a surge of heat and fear and excitement coursing up from her loins. She could only nod, then reach around and pull the T-shirt up over her head. She dropped it on the floor.

"Now the bra."

Another surge. She wanted to protest, but she saw the way his eyes admired her, drinking her in, and she could feel her body opening up. Heat crawled down her thighs. She hadn't allowed any man to look at her like this in a very long time. And now Jimmy wanted to, wanted to appreciate her, let his eyes linger on her, the same way her thoughts lingered on him when she let her dreams out for a bit. She wanted to unveil herself for him. The bra tumbled to the floor. His body straightened, and as he stared unmoving at her light brown breasts, she didn't wait for his next command. She undid her jeans, pushed them down and stepped out from them.

He smiled gently and approached her. He stopped inches away, looking down at her, not touching her. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

She nodded. She trembled. She wasn't sure about anything, except whatever this was, she wasn't going to stop it.

He reached down and took her hand. "Do you trust me?"

She nodded.

"If you want me to stop at any point, say the word 'heartbeat."

"Heartbeat?"

"Heartbeat."

She nodded again. Still holding her hand, he led her out of the kitchen into the cramped but cozy living room. Surrounded by her worn but beloved things, she suddenly became very aware of her nakedness. The syllables to stop this now came to her lips. He turned and looked at her with those eyes, so appreciative and benevolent. She swallowed the words and looked at him steadily.

He touched her bare shoulder. "Nikki, you beautiful creature. I have wanted this moment for so long." His other hand brushed her nipple and caressed her neck. "Stand there while I explore you."

He bent down and kissed her breast, gently, then the other one, his tongue lighting across the nipple. Her legs trembled. His hands slid down her side, and he slowly kneeled, kissing the bottom of her breast, her side, her belly button. She could feel his warm breath on her upper thigh, and she shivered, placing her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. He kissed her panties, and let his fingers run down her thigh across the dampness forming there.

"Kneel, dear Nikki."

She kneeled. He took her face in hands and kissed her gently, one hand cupping a breast and the other pushing her hair aside, so he could plant kisses on her cheek, earlobe, and neck. She arched, opening herself up to him, waiting for him to push her down, somewhere, anywhere, and enter her.

"Nikki, my beautiful Nikki."

He took her in his arms, but turned her. She was now facing the couch, and he moved behind her, his lips still exploring her neck, but his hands unambiguously pushing her shoulders forward on to the sofa's faded pink fabric. His hands were on her ass now, and she stretched her torso on the couch, spreading her legs, as his fingers moved up her thighs and danced gently across wet panties.

"Nikki, you are the sexiest woman I have ever seen."

His fingers pressed on her panties. She moaned, pushing back against him, willing him to enter her.

A smack sent a shockwave up her body. She gasped audibly. The small hot jolt of pain from her ass crashed against her arousal, sending wild signals through her nerves.

"That, Nikki, is for the late rent."

His slapped the other side of her ass, the sound of his open palm loud and welcome, echoing across the waves of guilt and pleasure coursing through her body.

"Do you understand, Nikki?"

"Yes," she gasped.

A third spank, a bit harder this time. She twisted as a flames erupted from her loins.

"Yes, sir. Always, sir, Nikki. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

She realized her mistake immediately, but not before another bright bolt of pain shot through her. She cried out. It was the hardest yet, and a small splinter of fear sharpened the feelings of pleasure and pain.

"Yes, sir. Yes, Jimmy, please, sir."

"Good, Nikki, good, now stand up." He took her hand and helped her stand. Her legs were wobbly, and he hugged her close. She noticed he smelled wonderful, and her hand returned to his crotch. He pulled it away, but smiled as he did so.

"Not yet, Nikki. First, we move to the bedroom." He took her hand. She did not resist as he led her into the bedroom. It was a queen bed, covered with a wholly unerotic rose-pattern quilt, but Jimmy hardly seemed to notice. He let go of her hand and stood at the side of the bed. He began to unbutton his shirt.

"On the bed, beautiful. On your back, legs to me."

As she had earlier with her nakedness, she became suddenly very aware of her vulnerability. The fear that had been so intoxicating just a moment ago was getting cold. She felt a sudden need to cover herself, with her hands, anything.

There was a gentle touch on her shoulder, and she saw him looking at her with concern. He was shirtless. "Nikki, you are safe here. You belong to me. If it's too much, just say the word, but until you do, you belong to me. You serve me. Do you understand?"

She nodded. "Yes, Jimmy, yes."

A quick slap across the edge of her breast caught her breath. Her nipple sung, and she could feel fire rekindling below.

"Sir."

"Good, now on the bed. Legs to me."

She climbed on bed, lying as he instructed.

"Close your eyes."

She closed her eyes, the darkness heightening the building heat between her legs.

She felt his hands on her hips, and then he was sliding off her panties. She lay naked, a tremble evident in her arms and feet. He took her left arm and placed it across her chest, and then her right arm across that. Something pulled on her wrist, and she instinctively opened her eyes. Her panties were looped over one wrist, and as she watched, he twisted the panties twice, and pulled the other end over her other wrist, and then twisted again and circled both wrists.

She was bound.

She could feel the wetness of her panties tight against her wrists, and the shock and dirtiness of it all made her legs clench involuntarily.

Then he was there with his shirt. He passed one arm of the blue button-down under her back and then pulled it up on her other side. She thought with momentary hilarity that it looked like he was tying a giant shoe. He pulled on both arms of the shirt, and the knot came down on her chest. He pulled again, tightening the bind, pinning her arms against her body. Between the binding on her wrists and the binding on her arms and chest, she had no leverage at all. She was helpless.

He looked down at her. "Are you okay, Nikki?"

"Yes. Yes, sir." She succeeded in a faint smile. He kissed her then, softly, on the mouth, then moved his lips down to one nipple and then the other. She went to hug him, pull his close, but her bindings caught. She realized she was his to do with as he wanted. The thought sent another pulse down her body.

She had never done anything like this before, and while it had been exhilarating so far, it was too much too fast. She went to grab the safe word, but it had gone, down the same dark hole her rational protests had disappeared earlier. She looked up at Jimmy, but he had disappeared out of view. She tried to sit up but couldn't. Panic bubbled up from her chest.

No sooner had the safe word popped into her head, than a towering wave of pleasure surged up her body. It washed away everything. His tongue lit one fire and then another on her clitoris. A seismic force arched her back, pulling the bindings tight against her, reinforcing her sense of helplessness and submission. She had never felt such ecstasy. Two fingers pushed inside her, and she opened herself, welcoming them, forever if they liked. They rubbed inside her and his tongue worked the outside. The combination left her reeling, unable to keep up with throbbing rhythm developing inside her. Her fists closed around the panties. She fought the fabric as his fingers quickened. The dark, searing wave that had been building since the first spank crashed across her mind. She tumbled in pure, blinding pleasure. A series of tremors followed, a bright parade of kaleidoscope lights shining on the backs of her eyelids. His tongue danced, each dip and twist unleashing a new cacophony of echoes and explosions in her body.

Finally, when the noise subsided and her breath came in ragged huffs, he relented, kissing her thighs, as he trailed away. She could not open her eyes. She rolled on her side. Her mind was still tumbling down through a series of warm and joyous levels, when she realized he was talking.

"Nikki, baby?"

Her eyes fluttered open. He had walked around the bed. She had to crane her head backwards to see him. He was undoing his belt.

"That was wonderful, Jimmy," she whispered.

"That was wonderful, sir," he scolded gently. He pushed his pants and underwear down in one move and stepped out of them.

"That was wonderful, sir," she echoed quietly and smiled. She liked calling him that. She liked being corrected.

He was leaning over her now, and she looked up at him. "Nikki, are you ready to serve me?"

She barely nodded. Her body was boneless. All defenses had been abandoned. He leaned down and kissed her, and she could feel the hair on his chest on her forehead. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and hold him there forever.

But she was tied firm, and she could no more hug him close than she could resist him as he pulled her to the edge of the bed. He placed one hand under her head and with the other, he pulled her until her shoulders were square with the edge of the bed. He gently let her head fall back against the side of the bed. She found herself looking directly at his cock and balls. Her hair hung down towards the floor, just like his hairless scrotum, and she realized what he had in mind.