House Rules
"She owns the building. All six units. All young male tenants, all behind on rent, all paying the same way. Tonight she's making her rounds—apartment to apartment, collecting what's owed."
I own this building.
Six units. All young men. All behind on rent. All paying me the same way.
It's the first of the month, and I'm making my rounds.
My name is Lenora. I'm fifty-one years old, and I weigh three hundred and forty-two pounds.
I didn't always look like this. Twenty years ago, I was a slender thing, scared of the world, letting my husband make all the decisions. Then he left—ran off with his secretary, the cliché—and I discovered something unexpected.
Power.
I bought this building with the divorce settlement. Started renting to young men fresh out of college, desperate for cheap rent in an expensive city. Most of them struggle. Most of them fall behind.
And most of them, when I offer an alternative payment plan, say yes.
It's been twelve years now. I've had dozens of tenants. Some stay a few months, pay off their debt, and move on. Some stay for years.
None of them forget me.
Unit 1: Marcus, 24
He's been here the longest. Three years now, two months behind.
I knock. He opens the door in sweatpants, no shirt, still wet from the shower. His eyes drop to my cleavage—I'm wearing the red wrap dress, the one that barely contains me—and I watch his cock twitch.
"Mrs. Lenora." He steps back. "I was just—"
"You owe me for February." I walk past him. Close the door. "And March."
"I know. The new job starts next week, and—"
"I don't want excuses, Marcus." I sit on his couch. It groans under my weight. "I want payment."
He's already on his knees.
Marcus is good with his mouth.
Three years of practice will do that. He spreads my massive thighs, buries his face in my cunt, and works me with a dedication that borders on worship.
"That's it," I murmur, gripping his hair. "Show me you're grateful."
He moans against me. His hands find my hips, pulling me closer, and I let my weight sink down—let him feel the full press of my body against his face.
"You love this," I tell him. "Don't lie. You love being under me. Being owned by me."
He can't answer. His mouth is full.
He makes me come twice before I let him breathe.
"February's paid," I tell him, standing. "I'll collect for March next week."
His cock is straining against his sweatpants. Leaking.
"But—"
"Next week." I smile. "Anticipation is part of the price."
Unit 2: Jamie, 22
Jamie is new. One month behind, first time paying this way.
He's nervous when he opens the door. Flushed. Can't look at me.
"Mrs. Lenora, about what we discussed—"
"Are you backing out?" I step closer. He presses against the wall. "Because the alternative is eviction. And I don't think you can afford that."
"No. I just—I've never—"
"With someone like me?" I gesture to my body. "Fat? Old?"
"It's not that." He swallows. "I've never... with anyone."
Oh.
A virgin.
I haven't had one of those in years.
"Look at me, Jamie."
He looks. His eyes are wide, scared, but underneath—desperate. Hungry.
"I'm going to teach you," I tell him. "How to please a woman. How to use your mouth, your hands, your cock. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be able to satisfy anyone."
"And my rent?"
"Will be covered." I take his hand. Press it to my breast. "Every lesson counts as a payment."
He's shaking. But he's not pulling away.
"O-okay."
I lead him to the bedroom.
Jamie is clumsy at first.
Unsure of where to put his hands. Where to look. How to touch.
I'm patient. I've done this before.
"Here," I say, guiding his mouth to my nipple. "Suck. Gentle at first."
He sucks. His technique is rough, but his enthusiasm is genuine.
"Now lower." I push his head down. "Between my legs. Use your tongue. Flat strokes first, then circles."
He follows instructions. Gets better as I guide him, correcting pressure and angle until I'm gasping.
"Good boy." I pull him up. "Now I'll show you how to fuck."
I roll him onto his back. Climb on top of him. He looks up at me—all three hundred pounds of me—with something like awe.
"Hold still." I sink down onto his cock.
He comes in thirty seconds.
"That's okay." I kiss his forehead. "You'll last longer next time. Practice makes perfect."
He's already hard again.
I make him go for an hour.
Unit 3: Dante, 26
Dante is different.
He's not behind on rent by accident. He's behind because he likes what happens when he doesn't pay.
"Three months," I say, pushing into his apartment. "You're testing me."
"Maybe." He's lounging on his bed, naked already. "What are you going to do about it?"
I like Dante. He doesn't pretend to be ashamed.
"Bend over," I tell him.
He grins. "Yes ma'am."
Dante takes everything I give him.
My hand, spanking his ass until it's red. My fingers, sliding inside him while he moans. My mouth, biting marks into his shoulders.
Then I make him fuck me.
Hard. Rough. The way we both like it.
"You're a slut," I tell him while he pounds into me from behind. "Getting behind on rent just so you have an excuse to fuck me."
"Guilty." He slaps my ass. "But you like it too."
"I like owning you." I push back against him. "All of you. Every tenant in this building. You're all mine."
"Then take what's yours."
I do.
We both come screaming.
Unit 4: Kenji, 23
Kenji pays on time. Usually.
But last month, he "forgot." And when I came to collect, he had a request.
"I want to watch," he'd said. "You and the others."
Tonight, I bring him to Dante's apartment. Let him sit in the corner while Dante and I fuck.
"Touch yourself," I tell him over my shoulder. "Earn your rent."
He does. He comes three times before we're finished.
Unit 5: Tyler, 25
Tyler is sweet.
He brings me flowers when he can't pay. Writes me notes. Tells me I'm beautiful.
"You don't have to be nice," I tell him, lying in his bed afterward. "This is just an arrangement."
"I know." He traces patterns on my belly. "But I like being nice to you. I like... this. Being close to someone."
"You could find a girlfriend."
"I don't want a girlfriend." He looks up at me. "I want you."
Something twists in my chest.
"Tyler—"
"I know it's stupid." He shrugs. "You have other tenants. Other arrangements. But when you're here, with me... it feels real. It feels like something."
I don't have an answer for that.
So I kiss him instead. Soft. Slow.
And I stay longer than I meant to.
Unit 6: Andre, 27
Andre is the newest arrival.
First month's rent due. Already short.
He opens the door, sees me, and his face goes pale.
"Mrs. Lenora. I was just about to—"
"I know what you were about to do." I step inside. "Nothing. Because you don't have the money."
"I can get it. Just give me a week—"
"A week won't solve your problems." I close the door. Lock it. "But I can."
He's heard the rumors. They all hear the rumors eventually.
"Is it true?" he asks. "What the other tenants say?"
"What do they say?"
"That you... collect. In other ways."
"They say a lot of things." I walk toward him. He backs up until he hits the wall. "But here's what's true: I own this building. I set the rules. And if you can't pay in cash..."
I reach out. Trace a finger down his chest.
"...you pay in kind."
His breath is ragged. "And if I refuse?"
"You won't." I cup him through his jeans. He's hard—despite the fear, despite the uncertainty. "They never refuse."
Andre is on his knees within the hour.
Learning what the others learned. That I'm not cruel. That I'm thorough. That I'll take care of them as long as they take care of me.
"Welcome to the building," I tell him afterward, fixing my dress. "First of the month. Every month. Apartment by apartment."
"This is insane."
"This is life." I walk to the door. "You can leave anytime. Pay cash, find another place, move on. No hard feelings."
"And if I stay?"
"Then you're mine." I look back at him. "Like all the others. Part of the house. Part of me."
He's quiet for a long moment.
"Same time next month?"
I smile.
"Same time next month."
I finish my rounds at midnight.
Six apartments. Six tenants. All paid up, one way or another.
I climb the stairs to the penthouse—my apartment, the one I don't rent out. I pour myself a glass of wine. Look out at the city lights.
They call me names, I'm sure. The tenants, when they talk among themselves. Predator. Cougar. Slut.
I don't care.
Because when I want company, I have it. When I want touch, I have it. When I want to feel desired—genuinely, desperately desired—all I have to do is knock on a door.
This is my building.
These are my tenants.
And tomorrow, when Tyler brings me flowers and Dante begs for punishment and Marcus worships me like a goddess...
I'll remember that I built this. All of it.
And I'll never be lonely again.