Rent Comes Due Ch. 02


"-could be so chill but also so- so demanding-"

"-while you spank me. Punish me for touching you without permission-"

"-and when I'm here I just- it's like- I have to, there's no shame because I HAVE to-"

"-and then spank her too because she's a slut now, she'll-"

"-and it's so hot. The first time you hit my ass I went home and cried but then-"

"-do everything you say-"

"-I couldn't stop masturbating, oh fuck I can't help it I'm going to rub your cock too-"

"-so make her do depraved things, look she can't keep her hands off you, what a slut-"

"I don't know why it's so hot seeing another girl touch you at the same time-"

"-so punish her, over and over, she'll come back for more, you know you have her now-"

"-it's like we have to, you make us, I didn't know I had these fantasies, and I love-"

"-and I'll make sure you get her whenever you want her, she'll be a bigger slut than me-"

"the way you're twisting my nipple, fuck, I need to masturbate, I need-"

"-and then you can punish us and punish us and punish and punish-"

You suddenly reach over and finger her roughly, just as she starts rubbing her clit. She stops talking and moans helplessly into my ear. You suddenly shift and rub your breast against my face.

I'm rock hard again, I didn't think it was possible-

You grab my cock and point it at her, pumping me as fast as you can. Snarling, I jet on her belly and breasts; she looks down at her torso and then comes. You moan and crawl over to her, licking it up.

It's the novelty, I realize. All three of us are doing something unusual and wrong, and it's making us all into sexual animals. I'm having two girls, you're getting to play with a girl, she's weltering in fantasies of non-consent and humiliation.

You both settle against me. My eyes close again, uncontrollably.


I wake first, and squirm out from under the pile of sticky girl. You settle back to sleep, but her eyes drift open, and then she blushes from head to toe.

"I think this is where I give you a speech on how you know you love it," I said. "But we'll skip it because it's obvious. Unfortunately for you, I'm done for the evening, so that's all the proper fucking you're going to get."

"Um. I'm good," she says, nervously.

"But you're not done. Help me tie Miyuki up."

You stir as soon as I start typing you, but you just watch impassively as I truss you, on your back, legs apart.

"I'd like a word with you," I tell Angelica, and thumb towards the door.

Once out of the room she looks at me, half frightened.

"Looks to me like Miyuki is bi." Lesbian, really, but let's not get complicated. "And I think you are too."


"Yeah, right. You're at least girl-tolerant, or you wouldn't have shown up here again. Be honest with me."

Girls love being told they need to be honest; it makes them feel all daring to reveal real feelings and they're generally flattered anyone wants to know. But I'm not reading too much into her willingness to share. Right now if I told her to fly she'd jump up and down and flap her arms. I just stare and wait. She looks down.

"I'm not into girls. I'm... I probably couldn't do this with her if you didn't want me too so much. But I guess I don't... mind it? She small and cute and clean and... yeah. But without you insisting, never. Never ever."

I'm not sure I buy that, but it doesn't matter.

"Good enough. I'm going to hand you a vibrator and you're going to make Miyuki come. I'm just going to watch. And you'll be all over her - handling her breasts, kissing her, making her lick your nipples."

"Uh, no. I don't think I can-"

I turn her around and start whacking her ass. By the fifth whack she moans. "Fuck. Ok. You never ask, do you."

I slide my finger into her. She leans against the wall, shaking. When she squeezes down, which doesn't take long, I remove it and slap her ass once more. "Get to it."

She walks back into the room, ass pink. I follow.


Watching girls play with each other is fascinating. They move slowly. If you can watch two girls making out, you'll understand all the mistakes guys make with girls. And mistake number one is reaching for any part of her body until she's nearly begging for that part to be touched.

Your ass is bruised from what I dished out. I've gained respect for what a cane can do. The way I tied you mostly hides the marks, but some angry red and a little purple shows at the exposed flesh. I put the cane back into my hand, so on one in the room thinks any of this is optional.

She settles by your head, and starts to play with your hair, nervously. The nervousness is interesting. Maybe she's legitimately worried about the cane in my hand, but I decide it's more likely the experience of touching another girl like this has her shaken up. Maybe she's afraid she'll like it. I start to wonder how many people are actually afraid of their own sexuality. I don't know; I've never given mine a moment's thought.

Miss Ames comes to mind, yet again. As far as anyone knows, she doesn't have a sexuality, and hasn't since that thing with Willis. But I feel like common opinion is wrong on this one.

I shake my head and focus on you. You've closed your eyes; ergo, you feel something you want to hide.

She takes a lock of your hair, and slowly strokes your check with it. You turn your face away, but her hand follows. Slow stroking, not quite reaching your lips. It's fascinating.

You shift again. "I want cock," you announce suddenly.

I chuckle. No cock for you. Two hot girls in the room and it's not even twitching.

She runs a fingertip across a lower lip, then goes back to playing with your hair, stroking it.

"Can't get it up?" you say, mockingly.

You're scared. It's that simple. You're a lesbian, and you're in some kind of denial about it, but what's happening now is going to make it come to the surface. You know that and you don't want it to happen.

Why? Once upon a time, being a lesbian was bad. But even in this sleepy little farm town, no one has cared for years. The last person who had a problem with gays was old man McGlynn, the same asshole who threw rocks through church windows and peed on the war memorial on the town green. When it came out that he had a thing for goats, he left town and his house mysteriously caught fire later that week. So long, don't come back. That was ten years ago, and people who harassed other people got told they were pulling a McGlynn to this day.

You probably don't know all that, and maybe I'm underestimating the dangers of publically divergent sexuality in modern times. But this seems like a lot of drama over something no one really cares about.

Well, here. Maybe it was very different where you come from. But while I don't know a lot about Japan, I seem to remember reading it wasn't considered a big deal there at any point in history.

She's running a fingertip slowly along the side of your neck.

"Stop," you say sharply. Angelica recoils a little, but I clear my throat. She goes back to stroking your neck... and her other hand settles lightly on your belly.

You do a bad job of hiding your response. Your lips part, and your hips slowly lift upwards. I chuckle, and you instantly blush and settle back into a rigid position; but it's already game over. Once a girl feels arousal, she can push it down, but it doesn't go away.

She leans in suddenly, and kisses your neck. You become, if possible, even more rigid, but her hand slides upward over your belly and plays lightly over the base of your breasts. Your back begins to arch, and she runs a fingertip over your nipple, once, quickly. You gasp.

She shoots me a terrified look, clearly uncomfortable at your arousal. I smile at her, darkly. "Not how you imagined life on the farm, is it, sweetheart."

"Where else would you find pigs," you interject.

That's going to cost you.

She straightens up suddenly and walks out of the room. Oh. You weren't trying to set me off - you were trying to make the room so uncomfortable she'd stop.

I catch up with her in the hallway.

"She doesn't like it," she says, defensively.

"She jerked your chain. She's trying to run this."

"She's submissive, or whatever!"

"She's complicated. And if I'm right she's just found out she likes girls and she's got an issue with it."

"Yeah, I... it was kind of hot doing stuff when it was just to turn you on. But when I realized she's... into it for other reasons it all got strange."

I look at her. "You're an alright sort. I want you to finish what you started in there."

"Look, she and I are friends. This is already weird. You don't do non-consent with your friends, you know?"

"Yeah. You pick near strangers, like me."

She blushes hotly, and I give her my most charming smile. "I get it. You aren't here for romance, the fact that you don't know me is actually what makes this work. And you can never talk about it, except with her. But she's in there thinking she can call the shots now, get you to come and go however she likes. And that's not how it works in my house. Do this for me - force her to admit she likes girls."

"You're asking me for a favor," she says, blankly.

"Yeah. And I'll cuddle you afterwards and let you wind down in a calm way. You'll need that."

"You, cuddle?"

"Um... it's not like it's a crime."

"I just never imagined you were the type."

"You'll be an emotional mess if you don't get some gentleness afterwards. Trust me."

She just looks at me.

"Alight. Kind of just to see you actually cuddle me. I just... yeah."

She walks back in.


"Kiss it, bitch."

Angelica is grinding her nipple against your mouth. Your eyes are closed tight and you're trying to turn your head, but she's got you by the hair. Her other hand is petting your pussy, over and over.

Her finger stabs into you, and you shake.

"Kiss it!"

"Stop it you fucking bitch!"

To her credit, she just laughs at you. "C'mon, baby. Your clit is begging for attention - and you can have it when you suck. C'mon... be a good girl." Her finger is stabbing in repeatedly. You just keep shaking. Penetration does things to you.

She slaps your pussy suddenly, and your lips part. She pushes her nipple between them, and with a moan you start sucking it. Silently I hand her a vibrator, and the rewards begin. Ten seconds on, a few seconds off. It makes me wonder again what kind of videos she watches.

"Fucking bitch," you whimper. "Fucking, fucking bitch."

"Oh is that what you want?" she says - and starts thrusting the vibrator inside you. "Now suck me!"

You try to toss your head. She slaps your face, and forces your mouth back in place, sliding the vibrator over your clit again. She leaves it there for twenty seconds, thirty, a minute...

You arch suddenly. She takes it away. "No. Lick my pussy."

She straddles your face. When you start licking she rewards you again, but at this point I'm thinking it's less like reward and more like intense frustration. You're licking frantically now, lifting your hips and grinding on the vibrator, moaning in broken Japanese between licks.

I consider the point proved, and slowly slide two fingers up inside you. I curl them suddenly and you lose it, shuddering through an almost silent orgasm.

I let you finish, feeling you clench down on my fingers over and over, and then pull her off you. I settle her in my lap and start to stroke her, slowly; to my surprise she burrows into my shoulder.

You stare at us expressionlessly, then get up and stalk off, stiffly. Angelica shifts a little in my lap.

"Is she okay?"

"Just about never," I reply. "But there's nothing really wrong, and tomorrow she'll be back to denying she's a lesbian."

"I don't think she... exactly... is."

"She likes the female shape. I don't think she actually likes males - she just gets off on being violated by them. I don't try to understand."

I pet her breasts, slowly. She cuddles in, and starts shaking a little.

"You'll be ok," I say, softly. "You're a good girl. And you'll be back."

She whimpers, and closes her eyes tightly. I nibble at her neck.

"You'll be back."

A soft whimper.

"Won't you."

"Do you have to make me say it?"


She whimpers again, eyes closed tightly. I wait.

"Yes," she whispers.

Harem. Who would have thought it was this easy.


I eye the telephone, and sigh.

You say thank you when people are nice to you. Anyone who doesn't is an asshole. And it's not like there was anything wrong with talking to Miss Ames, though as a rule I generally didn't. She was nice and sweet and I was just a little too crude for the likes of her.

I eye it again.

Just how much had she seen last night? Angelica didn't mention having seen anyone else come and go. But the food had still been warm when I found it. Odds were outstanding that Miss Ames had come in while both girls were in the house.

No one had the right to judge my activities with girls, as long as they were over 18, which they were.

It was just a fucking telephone. I go over it, and dial the number I memorized over ten years ago, just in case.

"Calamity speaking."

"Miss Ames," I say, a little awkwardly. "It's Heinrich."

"Yes, Heinrich. I do have caller id, you know."

There's mischief in her voice, and I chuckle.

"Wouldn't have guessed, since you're on a land line and all. A land line in this day and age? Kind of old fashioned."

"You have a land line too... you're just too cheap to go for the caller id option, ain't'cha."

I haven't spoken to her in ten years and more. A polite nod on the street, a few pleasantries if we got stuck in the same line at the bank... that pretty much covered it. We never discussed the history we briefly shared; it didn't seem polite to bring it up, seeing as she'd been at risk of a rape when I stepped in.

"Mostly I don't see the point of knowing in advance. If I knew who was calling... that's just one more reason why I wouldn't pick up, most of the time. But enough on that. Miss Ames, I have to say, you cook a ham steak like no other, and I'm appreciative as can be. If you ever feel the need to cook for someone again, I'd be happy to be that person."

"Why Heinrich, you're being charming. I would not have guessed you had that skill. Barbara been giving you lessons?"

I choke on that thought for a moment. "Miss Ames? It's a small town and all so I know you and Barbara have words on occasion. So I'm sure you're aware that if there was anyone less fit to give charm lessons than me, it would be her."

"You're not the first to think that. But Barbara's ok. And while I appreciate your flattery, I feel you need to be taken to task about something."

I brace myself. She'd seen Angelica, and Miss Ames was not known for her wild, freethinking attitudes. I wouldn't have guessed she'd have gotten to the point so quickly, but there is was.

"Yes, Miss Ames?"

"Exactly. I haven't been Miss Ames to anyone for about a decade. It didn't sound so bad when I was seventeen, but here I am all grown up, and you're still Miss-Amesing me. Everyone calls me Cal now. I think you can consider this a formal invitation to be a little less formal."


"Well, I don't know. Habits die hard and I've meant nothing but respect by calling you that..."

Her voice takes on a more somber tone; the undercurrent of cheerfulness and playfulness is still there, but muted. I can see her in my mind's eye, curling a strand of that copious multi-colored blond hair around a finger, thoughtfully.

"And you thought I needed some extra respect after what nearly happened, didn't'cha. I appreciated it greatly at the time, and in a way I still do. But it was a long time ago now. You did a fine job of rescuing my honor. So call me Cal."

"What were your parents thinking, anyway? Calamity is an... odd choice."

"I'm told my no-account father got hold of a collection of stories about Calamity Jane and was impressed by them. Jane and Ames almost rhyme and the rest was a decision made under the influence, and I think over mom's protest. He didn't hang around much afterwards, but the name is what ended up on the birth certificate and so here I am."

"Heh. I remember your father, barely. He gave me candy. I was very young and it was a long time later when I worked out what his weaving and the smell of gin was all about. But he was kindly. And such a lovely daughter."

I suddenly learn that you can hear a person blush, over the phone. It's not something you hear with your ears, so I can't describe it, but it's unmistakable.

"There's you being charming again. That's my cooking and my looks you've tried your luck with. How are you going to finish this hat trick?"

"I'm not much for flattery, Miss- Cal. But you got through vet school and I hear the practice is going well. So I guess if I needed to pile on the compliments, I'd have started with the smart girl I remember from high school who wowed a few teachers who used to be impressed by me."

"Well now," she chuckles. "You complimented my beauty, brains and accomplishments. Barbara's dead wrong about you, you do know how to be civil around women."

"Barbara might be a little unfair when it comes to me. But... let's not gild this pig overmuch. I'm not the nicest person around. Not the Sunday school sort."

"I've heard that claim. Frequently. But if you ask around... it turns out you're the Sunday school sort after all. Dour, sarcastic, aloof, sure, I hear all that alot... but other than a couple punches no one remembers you ever doing anything wrong. When I took over the practice from Jamison he said you were better and kinder to your animals than anyone in the county."

"You've got to stop listening to these wild rumors, Miss Am- Cal."

She's got me taken aback. Part of it is trying to humor her on the name thing. It's one thing to use Miss Ames at the end of a sentence, it shows respect, almost like a title, and it sounds right. But you can't do that with someone's name all the time. It's throwing off my rhythm. And the thought of her asking around about me... I don't have many skeletons in the closet but there's a couple she doesn't seem to know about - not even counting the two current girl-toys.

"I always make up my own mind about people. Rumors don't amount to much anyway. So what did you think, too much maple in the glaze?"

"What? No. Didn't I say I thought it was great?"

"Sure it was great. You didn't have to cook it and that live-in servant girl didn't make you another mess of fish and rice. But be honest. Too sweet?"

Even though I know this is a trap, I can't resist when someone asks for my honest opinion.

"Alright, yes. I'd have gone lighter on the maple. I'm not that into sweet. How did you know?"

"You drink black coffee at Joe's diner. He hasn't washed that pot in ten years. That coffee qualifies as an acid wash for my glassware any day. And he has the best pie in the state - just ask him - and you never eat any."

I chuckle. "Do you know everyone's eating habits, or are you stalking me?"

"Oh, I know pretty much everyone's. When things get slow at the office, Sue and I get talking about men and their favored meals and... other things about men. And Sue does part time in Joe's, so she knows a lot about it."

"Uh huh. So... how is life as a vet?"

"Oh, I like it. I always did love critters; some people just do and there's no help for it. I do a killer parakeet imitation now. It's not quite All Things Wise and Wonderful, and I'll never get used to putting down cats no matter how much they need it. But I chose the right career. And you? Gentleman farmer, live in wait-staff, and prizewinning pumpkins? Is it all you hoped for?"

That's twice she's brought up the live-in. I don't know how much she knows - you aren't one for socializing in town, and I haven't mentioned anything to anyone. Of course the hands got an eyeful of you more than once, and the way you dress it's an easy guess how you make rent...

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