The Landlady

[Cedar]

PART ONE

She finally came to the door in response to my angry pounding. For a moment I wondered if, in drunken carelessness, I’d come to the wrong apartment. But the sign (“Joy Goode, Manager”) was right there next to the door, and at last she opened up.

Actually she’s not just the manager, she owns the building -- got it in a divorce settlement or something. She lives here and manages it too because she’s got nothing better to do. Today she was in denim cutoff shorts and a T-shirt, and barefoot. She’s about 35, several years older than me but in great shape. I glanced at those smooth perfect legs which had tantalized me for so long. She’s maybe 5'4", with pale skin and black hair, and nicely curvy; I fantasized about her a lot. But just now that wasn’t the mood I was in. Before she could speak I shoved the folded-up piece of paper in her face, stepping into her doorway as she retreated in surprise, and yelled, “What the hell’s this?”

Of course I knew what it was: an eviction notice, signed by her. I’d found it stuck under my door when I came home. In a funk of fury I’d knocked back three beers in maybe thirty minutes, getting madder and madder, and finally decided to pay her a visit.

“Mark, you’re two months behind on the rent,” she said. “I know you’re going through a tough time, but --“

“I lost my fucking job! You know that!” I pushed forward and slammed the door behind me as she stepped back again. “You gotta give me a break!”

“Mark, I’ve been giving you a break for --“ she stopped cold as I yanked the gun out of my pocket. It wasn’t loaded, of course; I didn’t want to actually hurt her, just throw a scare into her. But this was more than a scare; she was staring at it in utter terror, backing away. I advanced on her, starting to enjoy this.

“Just one more month, Joy,” I said, more demanding than begging despite my situation. “I’ll get another job, I know I will.” She backed into a wall and I kept going until my chest was just an inch or two from hers. She cringed away. I noticed the points of her nipples under the T-shirt and realized she wasn’t even wearing a bra. I held the gun in her face with my right hand and slipped my left up under her t-shirt, resting it right on her bare breast, to show her who was boss, and because I hadn’t touched a woman in a long time and I’d been fantasizing about Joy even longer. “Just one more month,” I repeated, tapping the gun lightly against her cheek. “OK?”

“Mark.....” She was frozen with terror. I pressed against her, sandwiching her between me and the wall. Between her helplessness and the soft breast in my hand and the feel of her body against mine, I had a hard-on already. I’m easily distracted, but even so, if I hadn’t been in my impulsive mode the way I always get after a couple of drinks, I’d never have done it. But on impulse I pulled her T-shirt up, over her head, off one arm and then the other, so fast she could hardly resist. She jerked as if she wanted to run, but a glance at the gun stopped her. Secure that she was under control, I stepped back as her arms flew up to cover her breasts.

“Take your shorts off,” I ordered. Her mouth dropped open and for a moment I thought she was going to object, but she blinked at the gun again and obeyed, trembling, unfastening her shorts and letting them fall to her feet, then stepping out of them. She wore plain white cotton panties.

“Those too,” I said, gesturing with my gun hand at the undergarment. She made a sharp intake of breath as if struck by a chill, but dared not protest. Her hands were really shaking as she pushed her panties down a ways, let them fall to the floor, and stepped out of them. Now she stood naked from head to toe in front of me, quivering, her lower lip trembling, staring at me in dread.

[Cedar]

PART TWO

Then I was all over her, groping, squeezing, licking, exploring the body that had tantalized me for so long. I regretted only that I had only one hand free because of the gun. “Evicting me, trying to push me around,” I spat. “I’ll show you who’s boss!” I grabbed her upper arms, dragged her over to her sofa, and hurled her down on it.

“Please --“ she begged, squeezing her legs together, but a gesture with the gun quenched the brief resistance. I pulled her knees apart, spat on my hand, and rubbed my spit into her slit. Then I pushed my jeans down and forced myself into her, right there on her sofa. She squealed and bit her lip as I pushed in, managing full penetration with a couple of hard lunges. I stared down at her shock-whitened face and started pumping. She wasn’t as wet as I like, but the extra friction was stimulating too, and I was enjoying her whimpering and squirming. The beer was having its effect and it took me a while to come, but this was for her humiliation as much as for my pleasure, and I didn’t mind making it last. It felt like she was getting wetter inside as I did it. She kept staring up at me, eyes wide and shining, breathing raggedly. At last I did come, driving in her to the hilt, and it felt like all my anger and frustration was pouring out of me, gushing deep into her, finally leaving me feeling calm and peaceful.

After about a minute I pulled out and climbed off her. She just lay there staring up at me in shock. Her pussy lips were damp and reddened. I zipped up my jeans. Suddenly the need for another drink overcame me. “Stay put,” I ordered her sternly. I stepped into her kitchen, keeping an eye on her through the doorway, and got a beer from her refrigerator. She didn’t move. I returned, sat in a chair across from the sofa, and drank, admiring the naked woman I’d just fucked.

“Mark,” she finally said, “Please don’t hurt me. I promise I won’t tell anyone. Just don’t hurt me.”

“Shut up,” I said. She was afraid I was going to shoot her to keep her from ratting on me. I don’t think I could actually have shot her even if the gun had been loaded, but I was starting to realize I didn’t know what I should do. I needed to think. I finished the beer and got another.

“I won’t tell,” she babbled as I came back and sat down. “It wasn’t so bad. You don’t have to shoot me. I won’t tell --“

“Shut up!” I barked. Wasn’t so bad?! Had she been getting wetter as I did her? I’d wanted to humiliate her. But if her body had been starting to respond, maybe that was even more humiliating in its way. Or maybe she was just lying. She was so afraid she’d probably say anything. The total power I had was starting to excite me again. Unless I could get out of town before the cops came, I’d be in real trouble, but for now she was mine and I could do anything I wanted with her.

I finished the beer and put the can down. By now I desperately needed to take a leak, so I got up and headed for the bathroom. I glanced at Joy, wondering if I should order her to come with me to make sure she didn’t try to get away. Then an idea struck me.

[Cedar]

PART THREE

“Come here and kneel down,” I ordered, gesturing with the gun at the floor in front of me. She got up from the sofa and did so, and I held my dick right in her face. “Take it in your mouth,” I said. She obeyed, taking it all the way in, doubtless assuming I wanted a blowjob. I put my left hand on the back of her head to hold her in place, and held the gun to her temple with my right hand.

“Hold still,” I commanded. Then I started pissing. After the moment it took her to realize what was happening, she made a strangled noise of equal parts disbelief, outrage, and revulsion, and tried to jerk her head away. But I held her firmly in place with my left hand and kept right on pissing inside her mouth. “Swallow it!” I ordered, digging the business end of the gun into her temple for emphasis. “Swallow it all!” Almost immediately I felt the motions of her tongue as she started gulping the stuff down. I kept pissing, and she kept swallowing. Every so often she made gagging or choking noises, and her body trembled a little, but she managed to get it all down. At last my bladder was completely drained -- and her stomach must have been full. I pulled out of her mouth and stepped back.

She remained kneeling, eyes downcast. Her face was deathly pale and her mouth was working convulsively, as if she was struggling with nausea. “Don’t throw up!” I barked, brandishing the gun. “Keep it down! All of it!” I couldn’t believe the thrill of power I was feeling.

She stayed kneeling there and took a couple of deep breaths, struggling to get a grip on herself. “Please,” she croaked, “please, Mark, give me a moment, I don’t feel so good.....” It took two or three minutes, but gradually her color got back to normal and she seemed to calm down. She stood up unsteadily and stumbled back to the sofa to sit down.

I was thinking. Since I didn’t have it in me to actually kill her to shut her up, I was going to be in deep shit for what I’d done to her. The only thing to do was to get out of town. I needed to give myself as much time as possible. I cut her telephone cord, took her by the shoulder and pulled her over to her radiator, and tied her wrists to the metal pipe with the cord. She’d work free, but it would give me an hour or so.

Back in my own apartment I glanced over what little stuff I had. Everything worth taking would fit in the car. I decided I had time for one last beer. As I sipped, I thought about what I’d done, and I felt pretty good about it. I’d taught Joy a lesson she’d never forget. And if I did get away with it, I figured this evening would become one of my fondest memories.

Incredible as it seems, I dozed off. Six beers and an orgasm will do that to you. In hindsight, it’s just as well. God knows what would have happened if I’d tried to drive in that condition.

I jerked awake to light streaming through the blinds and realized with horror that it was morning. The sick feeling in my stomach had nothing to do with last night’s drinking. It was the realization that Joy must have worked herself free hours ago. Why hadn’t the cops already hauled me away?

I noticed another sheet of paper stuck under the door and ran to grab it. It was a handwritten note.

Mark -- I knocked but I guess you’re not up yet. Don’t worry about the rent, we’ll work something out. I don’t want you to leave. You showed me a side of myself I need to learn more about.

Joy

PS: Drop by my place when you can, OK? I’m thirsty.