Rent Comes Due

Then I pull out, and check the knots, making sure the loops around your wrists and ankles haven't sunk into your flesh. Satisfied that you're not in danger, I roll over and pretend to drift towards sleep.

It takes a few minutes, but...

"Please."

I stir. "Yes?"

"Please, I want to come."

"I wanted to sleep, but you didn't honor that."

You're silent for a moment, and then whimper "Please. Use me. Please!"

It's probably very hard for you to ask. I smile into the darkness.

I shift, get on to you, and rub myself against your body. Your hips tilt up almost immediately. Slowly I push into you, watching your eyes. I begin to thrust. You're very wet.

"You may come -- if you kiss me, softly, sweetly, over and over."

You snarl, whimper suddenly, snarl again. "No."

I fuck you until I come. You thrash in frustrated and infuriated need the entire time, but even when I brush my lips over yours, you do not kiss me. Slowly kissing your unresponsive lips is as hot as fucking you, because I know what it costs you to hold back your instinct to obey. As I come I pull out, splatter you with it, move away from you and curl up. This time going back to sleep is going to be easy. For me anyway.

This should be a valuable lesson to you. You don't fuck with a farmer's sleep.

+++

When I wake up, around 5:30, you've managed to get a pillow between your legs, but you aren't having much success humping it, though you're contorting yourself hard to try. I check the knots again, and then ruthlessly and suddenly finger you, while licking and biting your lips. When your body is arched and rigid, I whisper "come", and fuck your mouth with my tongue as my fingers rape you. Your orgasm is a thing of violent, infuriated beauty.

I get out of bed, wordlessly. I have a lot to do today. I fetch a small knife from my jeans and cut you free; you probably have studying to do today.

+++

We're not sexual for the next few days; it's time to pull in harvest, and the hands and I are in the fields, doing sixteen hour days. There's a much appreciated meal waiting for me every evening, and my eyes close hard as soon as I find bed. You've taken to pressing against me as I fall asleep, but there's no more groping. I don't touch you back. If I'm going to start what I don't finish, I want to be awake enough to watch you burn.

Come Saturday the hands and I are doing final gleaning and the massive amount of cleanup a harvest makes for. We'll be bailing hay soon, and the garden needs work.

You're around the house today, which means the garden work puts me in sight of you. You're in a halter and shorts, and while the halter would work better on someone fuller up top, the toned stomach and hot ass make up for it. I don't need the hands seeing that, and I walk over.

"Get in the house and change. Jeans and a tee shirt, now. And heavier shoes, not those flip-flops. This is a farm, not a beach."

"You don't approve?"

"I don't want the hands seeing you and making assumptions about any extra benefits this job might come with."

"So," you say, softly and a little venomously. "I am all for you?"

"Yes. All of you, whenever I want, all for me."

I take your wrist and walk into the house. For a few steps you protest and end up nearly dragged, but you get your feet under you and accompany me with some dignity the rest of the way. Once inside I march you to your bedroom, with the perfectly made and untouched bed and the neatly hung clothing in the closet. "Change."

"No. I like that the men can see me with way. Let them wonder if you fuck me."

"They don't wonder, they assume it. If I have to undress you you'll end up with more ripped clothing. As poor as you are you can't afford that."

You just stare at me. I spin you around. The halter is tied in back -- women's clothing always seemed to me to be designed for as much fuss and bother as possible -- and I claw the knot open. No bra. I yank down the shorts. No panties. You're panting and gasping, and looking back over your shoulder at me. Fuck, I have things to do, but...

I force you to your hands and knees. My cock comes out and your long, thick black hair is in my hand. I press my cock against your ass, and you make that tiny hot ... You're already wet.

"Don't think for a minute I don't get it," I snarl. "You wanted a fucking and you knew how to arrange it. We'll have a little conversation on what I do with manipulative girls, later. For now-"

I push in and pound you, pulling you back by your hair. It's fast and brutal, and because I'm angry I come fast and hard, not giving you time to get there and not caring that you don't. I jet inside you, and then use your mouth to clean my cock off.

"No clothes for the rest of the day. Stay inside," I pant. "You're mine, you're not for the hands."

"I have a friend coming over in two hours. We need to study."

"A guy from school?"

"A girl. Why?"

"Fine. You can have your shorts and halter back. Is she pretty?"

"Why?"

"I'd learn to answer questions if I were you."

"She's alright. Do you like blondes?"

"I'm not asking for me. I'm asking because if the hands see two hot girls, they'll find it necessary to use the bathroom in here instead of just pissing in the field. Stuff could happen. So stay in here."

"She'd like to meet Willis."

"The hands are out of here by five. Do it then. And I'm not liable for either of you getting hurt in there."

You nod. "You know you left me very needy. Would it be so bad if the men found me?"

"You think everyone is as nice as I am?"

"Do you think I am interested in 'nice'?"

I stare at you. "I don't have time for this conversation, even if it is fascinating. When your friend leaves we'll continue it. Believe me we will."

"I look forward to it," you say, sarcastically.

That went too far. I slide my belt from my jeans. It's supple leather and moves easily. I fold it double.

"It will mark!"

I bend you over my knee. "It didn't last time. But I'm angrier now. Let's find out."

I'm no expert on this, but a hand and a belt are two very different things, and I mean this to burn. I bring it down fast and hard, and you cry out. The red welt forms quickly. I have the other cheek a similar kiss, and stand up.

I'll check you for a bruise this evening. Don't think you will, but even if it does you aren't going to the police.

I walk out.

+++

I finish up the garden, check on the barn, and head back out to the fields. One of the hands was fucking with the bailer, which is the simplest piece of gear I have, and he managed to mount the spool wrong. I fire his ass on the spot and get someone with some grey in their hair to fix it.

By 4 pm the hands are packing it in, and I head to the house. My one thought is a shower and a drink. Sasparilla is a tradition in my family during harvest, but the modern stuff doesn't have the bitter kick that my father's did. After a few mouthfuls, I give up; it's crap.

Voices, from your room. Girls, talking. I take no interest in girl chatter, pass by, and fire up the shower. Time for a new furnace before winter, I decide; it's not going to last, especially the way you go through hot water. I'm not exactly a 19^th century farmer, but I was still raised that hot water is something you use when you need to, not want to. After the last few days of sweating out, though, I need to.

Clean shirt, clean jeans. Harvest went well, not that there's not a ton left to do. But I got rain when I needed it and the rest is just hard work and knowing how. It was a good year.

I'm in the living room, treating myself to a little music, when footsteps approach. Not yours. Your friend must be leaving.

She's not. She walks over to me.

Blonde. Maybe 21, hard to say. Curvier than you, and taller. Pretty in a sort of german ice maiden sort of way. Angry. It must be something about this farmhouse, I think. Angry girls come here.

"I'd like a word with you," she says.

I kill the music and look her over. Shorts and a tee, but fairly modest shorts. She's clearly not the slut you are. She didn't use Sir to address me. That's just bad manners.

"Probably more than one, seeing as you're a girl and all. What's on your mind?"

"You're making Miyuki sleep in your bed. That's wrong."

I look her in the eyes. "Seems to me it's not your business where anyone sleeps except yourself."

"It's wrong. She's a nice girl."

"We're talking about Miyuki, right?"

"This isn't funny!"

"This," I say, pointedly, "is absolutely her business and none of yours. This is my house and you just got yourself uninvited to it. Bye, now. Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."

"You have to leave her alone!" she explodes.

I stand up, slowly, and slide the belt from my jeans. Twice in one day, I reflect. I'll have to mark this day on the calendar.

"You wouldn't dare! That's rape!"

I'm not a legal expert, but I'm pretty sure rape involves penetration, which isn't in my plans. Assault, though, is. Then again, she's trespassing as of now, and the county judge is a cousin and the chief of police is an uncle, so...

"Recommend you leave now," I say through clenched teeth.

"When I do, I'll take her with me!"

Suddenly I have her bent over the couch, and the supple leather of my belt impacts her shorts... hard. Maybe I need an anger management class, I reflect. I gave her another, harder. She shrieks. It can't sting the way it does on bare skin, but I'm willing to bet she's never been so much as spanked before. I don't understand parents these days.

I give her a few more good smacks, harder each time, and then push her towards the door. "Bye now."

She flees, sobbing.

You were watching, from the stairs. You're all made up, and wearing lip gloss.

I look at you. "You told her."

"No. She guessed. The bed was dusty."

"Things get dusty around harvest sometimes."

"I told her that, but she's not stupid."

"You liked watching her get punished."

You say nothing. I walk over to you. Your nipples are showing through the halter. You're looking at the hardness of my cock.

"You're turned on," you say. "Even though you just had me, whipping her got you hot."

Hard to deny, with the erection. "Could be."

"We are both hot, and no one is around now."

You haven't come recently. It's clearly getting to you. "Take your clothing off."

You obey me. You're very visibly aroused, arms back, eyes down, hair cascading over one shoulder.

"Turn around."

I inspect your ass. It's red but not black and blue. Your friend's might be a different story.

I slap your ass. "Hold still and take it."

Slap. Slap. Slap.

"You like hurting me," you whisper.

"I can take it or leave it. I'm all about my cock when you get right down to it. But I'm fascinated by what humiliation does to you, and how you want to please me even though you don't like me."

I slap your ass again, and then reach under you and slowly push my finger into your slit. Your legs shake.

"Why is that, 'Yuri? Are you just that much of a slut? Or is there something else going on?"

"I don't have to answer-"

My other hand goes to your breast, and I yank the nipple upwards, so you end up on your tiptoes. I keep you there as I finger you, roughly. After a few seconds you're struggling to stay on your toes and whimpering in pain every time your knees buckle.

"Yes, you do have to answer."

"Muh- No- stop, please- hurts. Don't! Let go!"

My finger comes out and I slap your ass, still holding you trapped by your nipple. You're moaning and whimpering now. I reach around with my other hand, capture the other nipple, and keep you on your toes as I bite your neck and rub the front of my jeans against your very tender ass.

"Fuck! Hurts! No, please-"

"Masturbate," I snap.

Moaning, you do. "Fuck, oh fuck, please I already want to come so bad-"

"Faster. Think of your friend's ass and the way she sobbed when my belt hit her. You'll get that next if you-"

"Please LET ME CUM! FUCK PLEASE, THIS IS TORTURE!"

I let go of you, then push you to your hands and knees. My jeans come off.

"Nice girls get to come with cock inside them. Bad girls get fingered and denied until they scream for mercy." I slide two fingers back into you. "Let's see how much you can take."

"I c-could j-just come-"

"You won't. You aren't allowed and you need to be obedient. I don't know why you need that so badly, but you have to obey, you have to serve, you're a total slut, and you're all three of those things with me even though you don't like me. I'm not one for a lot of prying, but I'm curious about all that now. So you're going to explain."

I reach my hand around and work your clit.

"Please. Please! I HAVE TO CUM! YOU'RE EVIL! JUST FUCK ME!"

"That's what good girls get. Rammed by cock, over and over, coming your brains out. Feeling my cum trickle out of you while I make you come again. But bad girls-"

My fingers rape you, or it would be rape if you could make yourself be as unwilling as you wanted. My other hand torments your nipples again, then forces itself into your mouth so I can make you gag in time to the violation of your pussy. You start to come, but I take my fingers out of your pussy and leave you squeezing down on nothing.

"-bad girls feel pain and humiliation, and roll in a man's cum, and go to school that way, and get called names like slut and cum-whore and cockwarmer, and beg for orgasms until they are hoarse-"

You collapse onto your belly, roll over and plead at me with your eyes, rocking your hips sensuously. I pet your aching breasts, slowly, and then slap one. You nod, suddenly and brokenly.

"My mother," you whisper. "She hates men. So much. My father left and she didn't... recover. She caught me with a boy once and she spanked me with a bamboo rod while he watched. Afterwards he found me and fucked me, brutally, and dumped me. I came from his fucking, and afterwards, I came over and over, remembering it. I need- I don't know what I need. I need to please, I'll do anything. I need to earn my pleasure. She taught me it's wrong to come and wrong to make men come, but I love coming and making men come so much. I- I need to be made to and when I am it's so fucking intense- I know it's fucked up. It's like you're raping me every time, except I want it so it's not rape. You -- you're so hard. Arrogant. I hate nice boys. Use me. Force me. Force is so hot. When you spanked her I wanted to come. If you'd have fucked her I would have. Your workers, I wanted them to find me. But then when you said I was only for you, that was so hot too."

"Back on your hands and knees."

"I can't, my legs won't work-"

"Now!"

You try, but you really are unsteady. I grab your hips and push into you, pounding you. Your arms collapse and cross, making a place for your head. The way your hair flows out over your arms, your tiny waist and round ass... I get rougher, grip your hair, snarl-

"Let me come," you whisper. "I can't hold it back! FUCK! FUCK PLEASE! USE ME HARDER! FUCK, OH FUCK YES POUND ME OPEN, HURT ME, FUCK I'LL DO ANYTHING! JUST LET ME COME!"

You are batshit crazy, but I come in you and then on you, and then slump. I drag you against me; you lick my shoulder, shaking, whimpering. I toy with your hair, then tilt your head up and make you look at me.

"Would you really get off on watching me toy with your friend?"

"Yes. Please, I can't think. That was... shattering. I want to come so much. You're being cruel."

I trace the cum on your hip and hold it up to your mouth. You lick my finger, slowly, trembling. I smile, darkly.

"Your obedience fascinates me. Not a lot of loyalty to your girlfriend, though."

"She is just someone I study with. And she is... I think your word is prissy? She's had two boyfriends and only sex with one of them. She thinks that makes her very superior. She was fascinated that I shared your bed even though she acted all horrified. I will tell you something. If she ever comes back here, it means she wants you. Girls can be that way. A man who isn't afraid to discipline... you know what it does to me. It might be the same with her. If she comes here again, corner her and watch her hands. They'll be restless. Look for the signs -- nicer shoes, sexier shorts, eyes looking down, not away. If you see that, pounce without mercy."

"And you have no trace of jealousy at the thought of me toying with her."

You shift, sitting on my knees and facing me. You place your hand over my soft cock, look up at me questioningly. I nod, and you caress it, lightly, artfully. You add your other hand. You have such small hands.

"You have made me to talk, and I promised myself I never would. So now I am your slave in that too, and I will tell you everything. I want to see you get to her. I want to watch as she's dragged to your bed, and tied down. I want to hear you call her names and see you blindfold her and then make her feel helpless, and watch her get aroused against her will. I want to watch her hate it, then shake from it, then need more. I want to watch her cry and beg as you tease her open with your cock. I want to listen to her want to hate you, then lose the fight to the needs of her own slutty, desperate body. When she's begging I want you to force me over her and make me lick her nipples. I'm not attracted to girls and she isn't either, but I want you to force us to feel arousal and repugnance at the same time. Then I want you to fuck me on top of her, so she feels the brutal impact of your body taking mine. Don't let me cum. Take your cock all wet from me and make her suck it while I'm forced to lick her pussy. Edge her, push your cock deeper into her mouth while I rub your balls, and make her drink your cum, and then make me lick her mouth clean. Finger her while I'm forced to masturbate, watching her fight her orgasm. Make her cry. Make me kiss her again as you spank me. Mock her for aching to come as you finger her, then slap her. Edge me and make her listen to my begging until she's pleading for her turn, then fuck her until she can't hold back the shameful, shattering orgasm. Then spank her and send her away, leaving me to burn in bed next to you, sobbing because I can remember every moment of her torture and am not allowed to come."

You have me hard again. Not hard enough to fuck, since I just came, but hard enough to like the sensation of your hands. You look down at it, and then back up at me. "Please," you whisper. "You have me begging, what more can you want? Look at me. Look at my heartbeat in my nipples, listen to my breathing. I can't take any more. Please. Please?" You shift. "Let me take you inside and masturbate to the sound of your voice."

"Will you kiss me as you come?"

"That is only for a man I fall in love with."

"I don't want your love. I want you humiliated and needing cock so badly you'll do anything." She's kneeling over me now, and I take my cock and run it against her slit, over and over.

"Please -- please don't -- please-!"

"Do as I wish." I put my hand on your ass, and rock you against my cock. You mewl.

"If I kiss- it won't be real -- I'll be faking-"

"I don't care about that."

Suddenly her arms are around my neck and she's kissing my mouth, frantically, while rocking her hips, working me in deep. "Masturbate," I whisper, and your hand darts down, you rub yourself frantically; I reach up and grip your breasts, moving my thumbs roughly over your nipples. I pinch-

You arch, tighter, tighter, eyes going vacant and then closing, slowly, sweetly-

"FUCK YES!" Your mouth moves frantically on mine and your body tosses in my lap; then suddenly you collapse. I guide your mouth over my cock and make you lick it clean.

"You... you always make me lick it. Why?"

"Hot girl smells ok, but cold girl, no. And I like how you look, serving me."