The Price of Rent Is Paid with Your Ass

I run a boarding house for women in a gray old mansion I inherited from my aunt, a austere woman who died when I was in my early twenties and left me more than enough money. I hated the house as it came to me: huge, damp, gloomy. So I tore down walls, opened up the stifling rooms into larger ones, painted everything white, and started taking in guests.

When I decided to open the boarding house, I wanted it to be for women only. I thought it would be simpler than making everything complicated with men around. I was wrong. Keeping order in a house “for women only” turned out to be much harder than I expected. They can be unbelievably messy, and getting them to clear the kitchen or pick up after themselves in the living room is a never-ending task, no matter how many schedules I post and how many threats I hand out.

Still, after a couple of years at it, I discovered by sheer chance a very unusual and enormously effective way to handle my unruly flock.

It all started with Mariana Duarte.

Mariana is one of those first-rate women: tall, dark, long-legged, olive-skinned, with the face, body, and air of a model. It didn’t matter the time or what she was wearing—one of her outrageously expensive outfits or a simple pair of jeans—she always looked splendid, to the annoyance of several of the others. She was also a bitch: haughty, arrogant, wrapped up in her own world, rarely deigning to come down to the “level” of the rest. When she honored us with her presence, there was almost always some catfight erupting because of her sharp tongue. The others hated her within days.

Despite all that arrogance, she was curiously vulnerable the day she came to ask me for a room. She was struggling to find work, had had to leave her apartment, and my old respectable house was the only decent place she could afford. Seeing her standing in my doorway in a tight red dress clinging to her curves like a second skin, outlining her full breasts and her fine mare’s ass, I got wet in my panties without permission. I wondered what effect her arrival would have on the others, and what effect it would have on me. I rented her a room even though she came with no good references and no fixed income. So, breaking my first business rule, I let her and her ten trunks of clothes through the door of number 7. I had no idea what kind of spectacle she would create in my quiet domain.

“She’s a witch, Renata,” Lina told me bluntly.

Lina was one of my favorite guests: sweet, always full of energy and good humor, except whenever Mariana came up. We were drinking iced tea on the old porch.

“You know she looked down her nose at me this morning? I hate women like that, so perfect. I bet she even fucks without messing up her hair, without her makeup running, with the guy’s cock going in and out of that perfect pussy of hers while she keeps the same statue face.”

“You’re jealous,” I observed.

“Not at all!” she snapped, though I knew she was. “I just can’t stand her. She doesn’t have a single flaw, and I hate that.”

Lina wasn’t Mariana Duarte, but she didn’t need to be. Her short, voluptuous figure was very attractive; big breasts spilling over her neckline, wide hips, a generous ass swaying when she walked. In many ways, she was more arousing than Mariana, because she had a warm personality and a smile that lit up the room. Lina’s only problem, as I would soon discover, was her burning jealousy, which could turn cruel with no effort at all.

“She’s not going to treat me like trash, Renata. I’m not going to let her.”

“Hey, you’re getting way too worked up over this,” I told her.

I didn’t like the spiteful streak showing through in my favorite guest. But my attention soon shifted to Miss Duarte.

***

After barely a month, Mariana fell behind on rent. I feared it. I thought a friendly talk, a little understanding on my part, maybe a few suggestions about managing her finances, would be enough to sort it out. But when I went up to her room one night to deal with the matter, she stood in the doorway visibly annoyed at the intrusion. She must have been exercising: loose shorts, a cropped top, her hair a mess, sweaty. Her nipples outlined against the thin fabric, no bra. And still, dazzling.

“What do you want?” she snapped as she opened the door.

“You’re twenty days late, Mariana,” I said calmly. “I think we need to talk.”

“Yes, I’m late,” she said, as if that were explanation enough.

“That’s why I’m here. When do you think you’ll have it?”

“I don’t have it. I’m supposed to get paid for a job at the end of the week. Though they usually pay me two weeks later.”

“That would make you thirty days late. I have a rule about not allowing that.”

“I don’t think you have a choice. You can’t evict me,” she said with an almost bored naturalness. “I know my rights.”

She tried to close the door. I stopped her and pushed my way in. This was going to require a firmer hand.

“The contract you signed gives me the right to evict you if you don’t pay within thirty days. I don’t want to do that. But if you can’t pay and we don’t reach an agreement, I will.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I know nothing about you, darling. You’ve been here a few weeks and came with terrible references. You got the room because of your pretty face, nothing more.”

For a moment she almost softened. Then that cold look came back. Her insolence horrified me, and my patience with being nice ran out.

“Why do you act like such a bitch?” I asked her.

I caught her off guard, but she didn’t answer. I drew in a deep breath. She had a way of stirring passions in me that I couldn’t quite explain. And then, with delicious clarity, I knew exactly what I was going to say.

“I’m giving you two weeks. Pay what you owe and next month on time, and everything will be fine between us. But if you short me even one cent, I’ll collect it from your flesh.”

“What does that mean?” Her eyes went wide like a frightened cat’s.

“It means that if you want to stay, you’ll pay the price with that perfect ass of yours.”

I looked at her so sternly that she shrank back. Before she could say a word, I turned on my heel and left. What a delicious triumph. I left exultant, in a dark and improper way, already savoring what was to come. That night I got into bed with my panties soaked and fingered myself while thinking of Mariana’s olive-colored ass turning red under my hand.

***

Two weeks later she left a message on my answering machine. On time, I’ll give her that. Brave, not so much.

“I’ve left last month’s rent in your mailbox, but I still have two weeks before this month’s. I hope you’re satisfied.”

Satisfied? Not even close. My resolve had only grown. When I went up to see her, around seven in the evening, she opened the door with her usual self-importance.

“I thought I told you everything you needed to know on the phone.”

“Did you forget our conversation? I was very clear.”

She stared at me for a moment as if she had no idea what I was talking about. Then she remembered.

“Did you say something about collecting it another way?”

“Exactly. I warned you that if you didn’t have it all by today, you’d pack your bags or I’d collect it with your ass.”

Her eyes flew open, horrified. Standing there in black cycling shorts that outlined her cunt as if she were naked and a faded red sweatshirt she’d cut herself so it fell off her shoulders, she was still breathtaking.

“May I come in?” It wasn’t a question.

She stepped aside, in shock. I sat down on the wicker sofa and examined the room, tastefully decorated but crowded with clothes and lingerie.

“I didn’t come to play, Mariana. It’s a simple exchange. Come here and take off your pants.”

She looked at me in horror.

“Don’t think about it. Show me your ass. You need a punishment.”

“Are you going to spank me?”

“Until it’s nice and red and hurts so much you start crying.”

A shiver ran through her body. Her gaze softened and tears welled in her eyes. She was more compliant than I had ever seen her. Deep down I suspected Mariana needed, maybe even wanted, that discipline. She hesitated for a second—would she rebel?—and in the end she obeyed. I watched her lower her pants until they fell to the floor. From that moment on, she was mine, all mine.

“Over my lap.”

She was wearing only a thin transparent thong that disappeared between her cheeks and revealed the swollen lips of her pussy, immaculately shaved, with a small patch of dark hair just above. Her ass was round, fleshy, trembling. When she lay across my lap, the heat of her crotch burned my thighs, and I immediately felt the dampness of her soaking through the thong and seeping against my leg. The bitch was getting wet, even if her mouth said otherwise.

I started with tentative pats and then, gathering momentum, gave her a firm, cheerful smack that drew her first cry.

“My God, that hurts!”

“Of course it does.”

She didn’t wriggle so much as seem to sink against my body, rubbing her swollen pussy against my thigh every time my hand came down. The slaps kept coming, one after another. My hand didn’t want to stop; I loved watching that olive skin go from pink to blazing red, and I loved even more feeling the hot stream of her arousal wetting my skirt.

“Please, stop!” she gasped, though she kept spreading her legs wider each time, unconsciously offering her pussy.

“Silence.”

I slid my hand between her thighs, pushed aside the soaked thong, and without warning slipped two fingers inside her. She was so wet they went in all the way in one thrust, to the knuckles. Mariana let out a long, muffled moan, very different from her earlier screams.

“Look at you,” I said, moving my fingers inside her calmly, feeling her walls clench greedily around them. “You’re dripping, slut. You love being punished.”

“No... no...”

“Don’t lie.” I pulled out my shining fingers and ran them over her lips. “Suck them. Taste yourself.”

She obeyed, her face burning with shame, sucking my fingers like they were a cock, wrapping them with her tongue. I left them in her mouth for a while while my other hand kept spanking her ass. When I pulled my fingers free, strings of saliva hung from her lip.

“Will you pay your rent on time, Miss Duarte?” I asked, punctuating each word with a sharp slap.

“Yes, Renata!”

“And no more attitude?”

“Yes, Renata. Ow!”

I slid my hand back between her legs and this time went for her clit. It was swollen, slick, protruding like a little nipple between the folds. I began rubbing it in slow circles while continuing to spank her with my other hand. The combination drove her wild: she moaned, writhed, her hips moving for more friction.

“P-please...” she panted, no longer sure whether she was begging me to stop or keep going.

“Are you going to come all over me, you little pig?” I whispered. “Are you going to come while I warm your ass up?”

“No... yes... please...”

I pinched her clit between two fingers, squeezed it, rubbed it fast, and at the same time landed a brutal smack on her ass. Mariana exploded. Her whole body jolted over my lap, her thighs clenching against my hand, her pussy soaking me through as she came with muffled cries against my skirt. She trembled like that for a long while, with spasms running through her back and burning ass.

I gave her a few final, gentler pats, and she collapsed over my lap, exhausted. I helped her to her feet gently. She was trembling, with her thong hanging from one ankle and her legs shining with slick all the way to her knees.

“Go look in the mirror. You should see your punished ass.”

She went to the full-length mirror and assessed the damage, rubbing her blazing cheeks and covering the swollen pussy that was still dripping with one hand.

“You’re much more pleasant like this, Mariana, much softer than I’ve ever seen you,” I said, and it was true: with her arrogance momentarily dimmed, she was beautiful in another way. “And remember: next time, if there is one, and I hope there isn’t, I’ll use something harsher than my hand. And you’ll have an audience. Your correction is too pleasant not to share.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” she exclaimed, the threatening edge snapping back at once.

I smiled, licked my fingers that still tasted like her cunt, got up from the lovely wicker sofa, and left without looking back.

***

“You should have seen her,” I told Lina. “Without all that bluster, she was delightful. You just have to know how to handle her. She came like a bitch in heat while I was spanking her, soaking my whole skirt.”

Lina’s eyes went wide.

“You’re telling me the little slut came from the spanking?”

“You’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Will you let me spank her until her ass turns pink?” she asked, unable to hide her excitement, and I noticed her nipples pushing against her blouse.

“That’s my job,” I reminded her. “But be careful, miss, or I’ll have to spank you too.”

She didn’t take me seriously. I did. Once the ice was broken, I wouldn’t hesitate to put any other guest over my lap if her behavior called for it.

For a few weeks life in the boarding house was peaceful. The calm before the storm. Little by little, the barbs and poisonous slights returned to dominate every dinner between Mariana and Lina. When the catfighting became unbearable, I summoned them both to my office.

“You’re acting like children. So listen to what’s going to happen: if I hear one of you shouting at the other, or at anyone else, I’ll bring you in here in front of the other one and warm your ass until it really hurts. Clear?”

They both looked at me with new respect.

“And the second offense, I’ll gather the whole house to watch.”

“You don’t have the right to do that, Renata,” Mariana protested.

“Oh, I don’t? You follow my rules and my punishments, or you’re out. And we both know how few places would take you with your record.”

That was her particular fear: ending up in a cheap boarding house, with “that other kind of people,” as she put it. She had nothing to say to that.

***

The ceasefire didn’t last long. A few weeks later, Mariana told me she’d lost several things: a pink scarf, a bottle of Belladona perfume, her best hairbrush. I didn’t think much of it, until the following night I saw that same bottle on Lina’s dressing table, far too expensive for her budget, and in her half-open handbag the unmistakable pink scarf Mariana had worn so many times. My worst suspicions were confirmed. I only needed the right moment to kill two birds with one stone.

It was the end of the month and, as I expected, Mariana was late again; she avoided me, didn’t come down to dinner, changed direction whenever she saw me. I called her on the phone.

“It’s Renata, darling. You’re late again. When are you paying me?”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to negotiate with you,” she replied, sweetly, conciliatory. “I’m short again.”

“I’ll be in your room in fifteen minutes to collect payment.”

Then I called Lina. I don’t know whether it was excitement or pure revenge that had her at my door within minutes.

“Play along, darling. With how you feel about Mariana, a gift is waiting for you tonight.”

Mariana opened the door with a resigned expression that broke the moment she saw Lina beside me.

“My God, her?”

“It’s not your decision, Mariana. Sit down.”

I took the wicker chair; Lina settled onto a low bench, looking as if she was ready to enjoy the show.

“Before we begin, I need to know something. You could have avoided this and you didn’t. Why?”

She fixed me with her eyes. Something cruel ran through them. She cleared her throat, drew a deep breath, lifted her chin in one last desperate gesture of pride.

“I can only say that... that I need it.”

“You need it?”

“Yes,” she said, almost defensively. “I know I’m difficult. My father used to spank me when I was little. You’re the only one who’s done it since, and until I provoked you I didn’t realize I’m a much better person when, from time to time, someone puts me in my place. And...” she lowered her voice, “...the last time you made me come like I never have in my life. I’ve been fingering myself at night for weeks thinking about that.”

A confession stronger than I’d expected.

“I appreciate your honesty. And that said, I think you should ask for your punishment.”

“No, I can’t,” she complained.

“I want to hear you ask for it.”

After a long silence, her arrogance seemed to melt away.

“Please, Renata, I need you to punish me.”

“Again,” I ordered. “Looking at Lina.”

Red with humiliation before her enemy, she repeated it. I told her to drag the bench into the center of the room and place a couple of pillows at one end to leave her ass fully exposed. She obeyed with astonishing docility.

“Hand me the bag, Lina. I brought something special.”

I took out a soft leather strap, five centimeters wide and almost half a meter long. Mariana’s face fell apart. I stripped off her cycling shorts and T-shirt, and she was left naked before me except for a tiny pink pair of panties. I yanked those off too: her pussy was bare, already shining with moisture. Lina let out an audible gasp at the sight of her enemy’s naked flesh.

I laid her across the bench and tied her wrists and ankles to the legs with several scarves, just enough for her to understand that for the moment, she was mine. I wrapped her mouth with the last one.

“We don’t want the whole house hearing us, do we?”

She shook her head. With her legs spread to the width of the wood, her ass was presented, a perfect target, and between her thighs I could see her swollen, dripping pussy and the dark little asshole clenched above it. The strap cut through the air and landed with a crack in the center of her firm cheeks. Her cry, muffled by the cloth, was unmistakable. Again the leather whistled, leaving a red stripe where the skin had been pale.

Blow after blow, the flesh shuddered and Mariana writhed against her restraints, though not with enough force to break free; she could have gotten loose if she truly wanted to, and she didn’t. She needed it. Lina watched entranced as that ass burned, and I noticed her slipping a hand beneath her dress and starting to touch herself without shame.

“Look at her dripping,” I told Lina, pointing the tip of the strap at Mariana’s open cunt, from which bright threads were falling onto the pillows. “The slut’s coming just from the strap.”

I dropped the strap and knelt behind the bench. I spread her burning cheeks apart with both hands—Mariana jolted when she felt my touch on her punished skin—and buried my face between her thighs. I licked her with my whole mouth, sucking her swollen lips, sliding my entire tongue into her pussy. She tasted of salt, of a female in heat, of pure repressed desire. Mariana cried out into the gag, and her hips moved on their own, seeking my tongue.

I raised my tongue a little and ran the tip over her tight asshole. Another muffled cry, sharper this time. I went back to her pussy, sucked it mercilessly, caught her clit between my lips and sucked it until I felt her trembling. With two fingers I found the spot inside her, that rough place that drives women mad, and rubbed it without pause while I kept sucking her clit. Mariana exploded. She came in streams against my mouth, soaking my chin, her entire body convulsing on the bench, her burning cheeks clenching under my hands. Jolt after jolt, while I kept licking everything, swallowing what I could.

When she finally went still, panting, I took the strap again and gave her three more crisp, decisive blows. When I felt she had reached the limit of what she could take—because this was punishment, not cruelty—I eased off until I was done.

I untied her. She collapsed onto the pillows, sweaty, her ass still burning and her pussy swollen, red, still throbbing. I lifted her carefully and put a silk robe over her.

“There now. You’ve paid your price.”

I had never seen her so soft.

“Thank you, Renata,” she murmured, looking at me with eyes full of feeling. “And I hope you won’t stop. I need this.”

I respected her more than I ever would have imagined.

“And now, Lina,” I said, turning to my friend, who was smiling in satisfaction with her hand still between her legs, “it’s your turn.”

“What?” She looked at me in horror, jerking her hand away.

I took out of the bag the brush, the bottle of Belladona, and the pink scarf I’d recovered from Lina’s room during the day.

“Do you recognize these, Mariana?”

“They’re mine. They disappeared days ago.”

Lina was starting to blush.

“I can’t believe you did this. You owe us an explanation.”

“I... I left them in the bathroom,” she stammered. “I guess I just wanted revenge.”

“Revenge doesn’t work, at least not under my roof.”

“Please, I won’t do it again!” she was trembling.

To my surprise, there was no triumph on Mariana’s face, only almost pity: she knew exactly what Lina was in for.

“Take off your dress and get up on the bench. Mariana, do the honors with the scarves.”

Lina let the dress fall to the floor and stood there in a black bra that barely contained her enormous breasts and matching panties that disappeared between her wide cheeks. I motioned to her and she unclasped the bra; her breasts fell heavy, with large dark nipples already hard as stones. She slipped her panties down and lay there, naked and shining with shame, on the bench. Her ass, much fuller than Mariana’s, was offered up like two white moons, and between them I could see her dark, hairy pussy, tight and wet-looking.

Mariana tied her ankles and wrists to the legs with notable delicacy. With her ass raised by the pillows, Lina was left as exposed as Mariana had been before her.

I started with my hand: her round ass, a mountain of white and pink flesh, was much wider than Mariana’s. I slapped one cheek, and then the other, and then again. The sound was different, fleshier, and the skin took the exact shape of my fingers. I must have given her two dozen before stopping.

“Please, Renata, stop!” she kept pleading, but there was still a lot more to come.

I continued with another furious round, her ass bouncing on the cushions, her breasts flattened against the wood, until it was red from top to bottom. Lina was starting to get wet too: between each blow I could see her pussy shining, swelling, opening a little.

“Look at her, the thief is getting hot too,” I said aloud. “Mariana, come closer. Put a finger in her. See how slutty she is.”

Mariana, with her robe open and a new smile on her lips, knelt beside the bench. She stretched out a hand and ran two fingers through the soaking slit. Lina let out a long moan when those fingers sank inside her. Mariana pulled them out dripping and showed them to me.

“Dripping, Renata.”

“Suck them.”

Mariana brought the fingers to Lina’s mouth, and Lina accepted them with a whimper, sucking them with her hot tongue, tasting herself. Then Mariana, without being asked, bent down and buried her face between those red cheeks. She started licking Lina’s pussy from behind, hungrily, with a surprising avidity for a woman who claimed to hate her. Lina writhed and cried into the improvised gag of her own moans.

Then I took the strap.

“Move aside for a moment, Mariana. She’s not done yet.”

Mariana obeyed, her mouth shining with Lina’s pussy, and knelt beside me watching.

“Will you steal anything again, Lina?”

“No, ma’am!”

“And no more revenge against Mariana or anyone else?”

“No, ma’am!” It was more a moan than an answer.

The strap hissed. Crack, in the center of the ass. Crack, again, over the previous line. Crack, lower, where thigh meets cheek. Lina cried and came at the same time, with spasms running through her whole body, her pussy visibly throbbing between her thighs.

Crack! The final blow was solid. I was glad to be done; for all I knew the punishment was fair, it hurt to see her cry. But I was also soaked beneath my skirt, dampness running down my thighs.

“Help her up, Mariana.”

With the same tenderness she had used to tie her up, Mariana freed Lina and helped her sit up. But instead of handing her the dress, she hugged her. Two naked bodies, one dark and slender, the other white and voluptuous, trembling pressed together. Mariana’s nipples dug into Lina’s big breasts; their thighs brushed, slick with wetness.

“Now spend some time together,” I said, tossing a bottle of lotion into their hands. “Get to know each other a little better, so there’s no more drama. And enough with the arrogance.”

I watched them. Mariana already had one hand on Lina’s punished ass, and Lina had lowered her mouth to Mariana’s dark, erect nipple and started sucking it. When Mariana gently pushed Lina back onto the bench and straddled her face, burying her dripping cunt against the anxious mouth of her former enemy, I decided I had done my job for the night.

Before I left, I caught one last glimpse of them: Lina devouring Mariana’s pussy like she’d been starving for months, and Mariana leaning back, her hands squeezing those enormous breasts, riding her face shamelessly. A long, sharp moan from Mariana confirmed that she was going to come a second time that night, now in the mouth of the woman who had hated her until this morning.

Neither of them dared say another word. As I stepped into the hallway, I could almost hear my other guests slipping away like mice. I had made sure, on purpose, that they heard Lina’s torment; I didn’t want them to miss what could happen to them if they behaved badly. I smiled at a young woman who tried to cross paths with me, docile and a little embarrassed, and noticed her nipples outlined and her cheeks flushed. She had definitely been listening at the door. I imagined there would soon be more naughty asses to redden, and more soaking cunts to attend to along the way.

In the weeks that followed, the kitchen shone, the house was spotless, and the dinner table arguments disappeared. At night, too, there began to be, now and then, the muffled moans of Mariana and Lina sharing a bed. A most satisfactory arrangement. And I felt proud to have stumbled, by chance, on this unmatched way of keeping my boarding house in order.