RUINED BY MY LANDLORD

{STORY 1: RUINED BY MY LANDLORD} Blurb: I was halfway through the hallway sprint to my apartment with my bladder about to explode, when I dumped my entire coffee down the shirt of the hottest guy I’d ever seen. He didn’t yell. He just smiled that slow, dangerous smile and handed my cup back like I’d gifted him a shot. I dragged him inside my apartment to ‘clean him up’…and somehow ended up offering him my shower. And my laundry. And apparently my body. The night was rough, full of moans and promises to ruin me for ruining his shirt. By morning he was gone. Then the apartment weekly meeting happened. Turns out the man who wrecked me last night owns the whole damn place. And now he’s texting about free rent… if I’m his good girl. God help me, I’m already wet just thinking about saying yes. ~~~~~ SARAH “f**k….me……please, f**k….me….daddy”, I moaned through tears as this hot 50-something stranger spread and tied my legs and arms in an X shape, naked while he kept fingering me with his right hand and playing with my left n****e with his left. He’d been at it for almost ten minutes now, and I’d squirted countless times, soaking the sheets so bad I knew I’d have a mountain of laundry waiting after he finally freed me from this bondage. If you hear me talking about bondage, you’d think I was held without my consent, but no, in fact I invited him to my house and now he’s f*****g me like a dog and making a total mess out of me, but guess what, I’m so so loving it. My name is Sarah Bills, I’m 23 years old. I’m a secretary to Jason Rolls, the CEO of The Rolls Group (TRG), the biggest multi-generational fintech company in New York. That morning started like any other shitty Monday at TRG’s sleek downtown office, all glass walls and buzzing servers, but it turned into the day my boss finally crossed the line he’d been toeing for months. I was in the conference room, setting up for the quarterly presentation on our new app rollout, flash drive in hand, I was already 80% nervous because Jason had been eyeing me weird all week and made me retype a particular letter 15 times. He walked in early, his suit was sharp as always, and he didn’t forget the smug grin that he has always plastered on. “Sarah, you ready? Be quick about it please.” His voice was low although he was close enough I smelled his cologne, the kind that screamed fuckingly rich and overcompensating. I nodded, plugging in the drive, heart thumping as the staff filed in…my downlines, the devs, marketing folks, all settling with their coffees. The projector flickered on, and I hit play. But instead of slides on user metrics, the screen was filled with me….drunk, high as hell, in a dimly lit strip club, red lingerie hugging my curves, a black mask covering half my face but not hiding the sway of my fat ass as I stripped slowly for my little crowd. My round and perky boobs bounced free as I peeled off the top, n*****s hard from the cool air, and I ground against the pole, getting wet right there, thighs slick, ass jiggling with every twist. The video caught it all…me arching my back, fingers trailing down to rub my p***y through the thin fabric, moans lost in the bass but my body was telling the story. Gasps rippled through the conference room, someone choked on their drink, and my stomach dropped like a rock. “What the hell is this?” Jason barked, slamming his fist on the table, but his eyes gleamed like he’d won something. I fumbled for the remote, face burning, but the video looped….me dropping to my knees, ass up, lingerie soaked through, the crowd cheering. “Someone, help me turn this off!” I yelled, yanking the drive, but the damage was done. Laughter bubbled from the back, whispers cutting sharp. Jason stood, pointing at me. “This is unprofessionalism at its worst, Sarah. A scandal like this? In my company?” He paced, voice rising. “You’re a street dog, bringing this filth here. How dare you embarrass TRG?” “What sort of immorality is this?” I stood there, hands shaking, tears pricking my eyes. “That’s not my presentation drive, sir. Someone switched it.” My voice cracked, but he waved it off. “Excuses. You’ve been doing everything wrong for months, and now this? You’re suspended…three months, unpaid. Get your s**t together or don’t come back.” Staff shifted uncomfortably, no one meeting my eyes, my downlines mumbling apologies as they filed out. Rose was my smug rival at work, the one who’d seduced Jason relentlessly but he never liked her. Rumors even said they dated during high school days, she was always looking for his attention and fighting me who didn't even think she existed. She smirked, loud enough for others, “Oh Sarah, always the center of attention. Stripping for tips now? No wonder Jason’s been insulting you…trash like that belongs on the street, not in fintech.” “Shut up, Rose, this is not your business.” Rose laughed hysterically, “Sure, blame a mix-up. We all know you’re desperate. I don’t even know what Jason used to qualify you to be his secretary, I bet you bedded your way in. “What?”, I couldn’t say anything after, as the words got stuck in my throat not because I don’t know what to say, but not just now that I’m facing the highest embarrassment of my life. Emily, my best intern staff pulled me aside with soft eyes. “Hey, that was bullshit, Rose. We all know Sarah can’t make this kind of mistake.” She turned toward me and whispered. “You’ve got our backs; we’ve got yours too. Don’t let Rose get to you, we know Jason is the creep, she’s just jealous you’re actually good at this job.” “Thanks, Em. It means a lot.” I sniffled. Jason leaned in close after, his breath hot on my neck. He’d harassed me a million times before that presentation disaster so this wasn’t new. Cornering me in the elevator when it was just us, his body pressing close so his hard d**k brushed my hip while he whispered, “You look tense, Sarah, need help relaxing?” His hand would slide down, grabbing a full handful of my ass through my skirt and squeezing hard enough to make me gasp. I’d freeze, pretending to check my phone until the doors opened. In his office, he’d call me over to “show him something on the computer.” I’d lean in to point at the screen, and his arm would snake around and shoot straight to my boobs, palming one roughly while his thumb circled my n****e through the fabric. “Focus, Sarah,” he’d mutter, but he was the one not focusing, making my p***y throb hard and sting sweet. Yet I didn’t give in. There was even a day I skipped the bra because I was having a pain in my shoulder and my gynecologist advised me to bra-rest a bit due to how big my boobs were and Jason noticed immediately. He quickly stuffed his whole hand inside my blouse, skin on skin, grabbing my bare breast, rolling the n****e between rough fingers while I tried to keep typing. I bit my lip so hard and clenched my thighs, hating how wet it made me. Even bending over his desk to jot notes on a file is risky, he’d step behind me, slamming his lower body against my ass, once, twice…grinding slowly so I felt every inch of him thick and ready. “Sarah, I can close the door, we can do it right here too, I’m hard for you, baby girl.” But I’ve always ignored him and gone about my day. Nobody would ever guess he’s such a jerk. To them, he’s the almighty, no-nonsense, powerful, untouchable boss who signs the checks and runs the show. But as for me? I keep my mouth shut and stay calm, no matter how much I want to slap that smug look off his face. I can’t afford to lose this job. Nobody’s gonna feed me or pay me what Jason pays me or any of his workers. It’s obvious that good money like that doesn’t just fall into your lap when you’re an orphan scraping by on your own. I’d have slept with him, honestly I’m not a saint and not that religious, but he’s just not my type, he is narcissistic, nags about everything, and follows everything that is under the skirt yet talks down on women. “Hot girl, you could’ve avoided this disaster, you know. One night for me to taste the cake, that’s all I asked.” His hand brushed my arm, and I jerked away, grabbing my bag, heart pounding. No thanks. I stormed out, grabbing a coffee from the lobby cart on my way, hands still trembling. I’m an orphan, fending for myself without doing anything dirty since I was 12…bartending, storekeeping, waitressing gigs, then this secretary job to pay rent on my apartment in Brooklyn. That strip video? It was just one night unwinding after a brutal week, high on edibles, letting loose in a club where no one knew me but I recorded it on my phone and transferred it to that flash that Jason found and used against me. But feel free to judge me anyways. The flash drive was in my drawer at work, but someone that I know was him, switched it with my prep one. Intentionally, just to break me. In the hallway back home, coffee sloshing, my bladder was on fire so I bumped hard into this elderly-not-so-elderly hot man with salt and pepper hair, spilling it all over his crisp shirt. “Oh s**t, I’m so sorry!” I gasped, dropping to grab the cup, face hot from the day already. He bent down too, gentle as hell, handing it back with a chuckle. “No harm done, miss. Accidents happen.” Our eyes locked, his gray, piercing, mine probably red from holding back tears…and something flipped in my gut. That shirt looked luxurious, threads gleaming, no way I could afford a replacement on suspension without pay. “Please, come into my apartment. Let me clean it up, or at least treat you to something for ruining it.” He hesitated, but I insisted, unlocking my door, he followed me closely. Inside, my place was scattered but cozy, warm lights, neat counters, plants on the sill. He glanced around. “Nice setup. Appreciate you keeping it so tidy.” I smiled it off, not getting why he was thanking me for that. “Bathroom’s that way. Take off your shirt, shower if you want. I’ll launder it quickly or grab you another if it’s wrecked.” He paused in the doorway and chuckled. “You sure?” “Yeah, go on.” The door clicked shut, water ran, and I stripped to my bra and tights, with my thick curves spilling out…busty, big ass, boobs straining the lace, basically just n*****s covered. When he came out, towel around his waist, muscles rippling, my eyes dropped to the bulge between his legs throbbing hard and pushing the fabric. I couldn’t unsee it. I couldn’t control it. It was as if I was enchanted. I moved closer and kissed him. Gently at first then it became rough as our lips crashed, and our tongues tangled. He yanked off my bra which was doing nothing in the first place and grabbed my breast, with his fingers pinching my n****e hard. I moaned softly, body arching into him, my p***y already wet. We tumbled to the bed, his hands everywhere, and that’s when the real fun started. But damn, the way he took control… He flipped me, spreading my legs and arms wide, tying me loose with my own scarves. “You ruined my shirt, now I’ll ruin you.” His fingers plunged deep, pumping steady as his left hand kept twisting my n****e. I was already wide open and aching. “f**k me please.” I murmured. “You think spilling coffee’s an accident? Now you’re mine to punish,” he growled, fingers plunging deeper. “Beg louder, girl.” I squirted again, sheets drenched, body shaking. “Say it like you mean it, or I stop right now.” “f**k me daddy,” I begged, tears stream down my face from the intense ecstasy, loving every second. And that’s my sexcapade starting, but wait till I tell you the real full gist.