The Haigh Loft Landlady

I

Morning dawned on the Haigh Building, a handsome brownstone in an up and coming neighborhood. The ninth-floor loft apartment, normally quiet at this hour, suddenly echoed with cacophonous, rapidly-thumping shrill noise for several agonizing seconds before it was just as abruptly silenced.

"Sorry!" Jayda's voice floated from her bedroom off the kitchen. "My headphones came out."

Sam padded out from the other side in a face mask and short kimono and saw Cath leaned against the counter, already nursing a cup of coffee. A fresh brown stain on her pink pajama top bore witness to the momentary jumpscare of the past thirty seconds.

"What even is she listening to?" Cath grumbled. "Hyperpop? Is that what they call it?"

"I think it's vocaloid," yawned Sam, opening the fridge and hesitating before selecting a tupperwared risotto. There was a silence broken only by the hum of the microwaving risotto, and then Jayda emerged from her room, skipping cheerfully and energetically into the kitchen. Her thin T-shirt stretched tight across her bouncing breasts, and flannel booty shorts hugged her firm ass.

"Morning!" she sang out, giving Cath a quick kiss on the cheek as she reached for a box of sugary cereal.

"Mrng," mumbled Cath from within her coffee cup. Sam gave Jayda a quick air kiss as she handed her the milk from the fridge.

"Going to work today?" Jayda asked brightly, settling on a stool at the kitchen island, and stirring her cereal so that it was all softened by the milk.

Cath bit back a sarcastic reply and only nodded. Sam stretched from the other end of the island while her risotto cooled in front of her.

"I have a ten o'clock," she said with a yawn. "Takes time to get all dolled up."

"Have you found a job yet?" Cath asked. Jayda's face fell and she shook her blonde head mournfully.

"I'm trying," she said with a sigh. "I do want to pay my share."

Sam shrugged. "We'll cover it as long as we need to. It's a little tight, but...."

Cath caught her eye and she didn't finish her sentence.

"I sent you the address of the temp agency, right?" said Cath. Jayda nodded, and the room fell quiet again as breakfast continued. From deep in the back of the loft, Naomi could be heard stirring.

Jayda toyed with her spoon, having finished the cereal. Her eyes glanced from Cath, now on her third cup of coffee, to Sam, eating her risotto with quick delicate bites.

"I'll go to the temp agency today," she said with sudden resolution. Then a gleam came into her eyes. "If I can have some juice."

Cath's eyebrows raised. Sam looked up in confusion.

"There should be o.j. in the fridge," she said. Jayda laughed, and shook her head.

"Not that kind of juice. You know...."

Cath set down her coffee with deliberation and pushed down her pajama bottoms so that her red-furred pussy peeped out. Jayda giggled happily and dove to the ground to kneel between her legs. Sam rolled her eyes affectionately.

"Better brush your teeth before you go to the temp agency," was all she said. Cath had a tendency to be particularly aromatic in the morning.

Jayda only made greedy sucking noises in reply, and Cath raised a solemn middle finger at Sam, who stuck out her tongue.

Naomi emerged, in an oversized t-shirt and sweats, her hair securely wrapped. "Morning, babes," she said with a little wave, and headed straight for the nest of electronics and paper in front of the window that constituted her "desk."

"No," said Sam peremptorily. "You have to have breakfast."

Naomi looked over and sighed. Sam glared at her. Cath looked up and nodded firmly. Jayda even turned her head around, licking her lips.

"It's the most important meal of the day," she said, and went back to licking Cath's folds.

"I have a big job to do," said Naomi in a less decisive tone than she meant.

"And you'll do it better with nutrition," said Sam. "Get over here."

Naomi obeyed.

"You don't have to use your domme voice," she said, half-sulkily, half-kidding.

"Oh, Mimi, you haven't even heard my domme voice," Sam assured her.

Naomi grabbed an apple and some energy bars and would have headed straight back to her workstation, but a knock on the door arrested all their attention.

Cath and Jayda quickly made themselves decent, Sam hurriedly peeled off her face mask, and Naomi went to the door and opened it a crack.

"Mrs. Pérez!" she said blankly. The scowling face of their landlady glared up at her.

"You have men over?" she snapped suspiciously.

"No, no, it's just us." Naomi hastily stepped aside and let Mrs. Pérez see. The trio around the kitchen island waved with artificial happiness.

"Good. No men!" Mrs. Pérez stepped in. At four-foot ten, she still had a commanding presence, with dark flashing eyes, graying hair pulled into a tight bun, and an eternal uniform of gaudy cardigans over an ancient housekeeping uniform, a talismanic reminder of what she had worked her way up from.

"No men." All four shook their heads in devout promise. Mrs. Pérez put her hands on her hips, entirely unmollified.

"Where the rent?" she barked pugnaciously.

Naomi looked at Sam and Cath, who looked at each other. Jayda looked between all three of them.

"We paid the rent," said Cath. "On the first of the month."

Mrs. Pérez gave a dramatic sniff. They braced for an announcement that the check had bounced, or that it was never received.

"One month rent," she said contemptuously. "I need one year rent, or you go now!"

"A year!"

"You can't do that!" said Cath.

"That's illegal!" said Sam.

"That's so long," said Jayda.

But Naomi's eyes went wide, and she was silent. Mrs. Pérez glared at her.

"Is in the Lisagrimen," she spat. Naomi ran to her pile of papers and electronics and pawed through them until she found a dirty packet titled Lease Agreement.

She nodded, mournfully. "After the six-month trial has been completed, Lessee agrees to pay one year's rent in advance, with all repairs and utilities to be borne by the Lessor."

"Six month was last month," said Mrs. Pérez triumphantly. "I need one year rent."

"Eleven months," said Cath quickly. "We paid one month."

Mrs. Pérez produced the check for a month's rent, showed the unsigned back, and tore it into pieces dramatically.

"One year rent," she said.

Cath slumped her shoulders, defeated.

"I'll have to stop at the bank to transfer stuff," she told the others. "And I'm already going to be late for work now. But I'll be able to cover my share." She glanced at Jayda. "And half of Jayda's."

Sam was looking intently at her phone.

"I should be able to do mine," she said. "The client today can afford some extras."

Naomi shook her head.

"I can't do it," she said. "I can take on more work, but it would take a month to get paid."

Cath pressed her lips together.

"You have to give us time to get the money together," she said to Mrs. Pérez.

"Please," said Jayda, her eyes big and mouth scared. Tears trembled on her eyelashes.

Mrs. Pérez glared at them with the hostile triumph of a conqueror.

"You have to end of day," she pronounced, and turned around.

Her exit was slightly spoiled by the fact that her twin daughters were standing in the doorway, looking in tentatively.

"¿Qué hacen aquí?" she snapped. "No les involucra esto."

"Mamá, Mamá," they babbled breathlessly. "Pero es que Rosario nos dijo que nuestros vestidos están irremediablemente pasados de moda, y que los tienes que comprar en almacenes más de lujo que JC Penney...." They fell out of earshot, but Naomi stood looking at their retreating backs thoughtfully before closing the door.

"I've got to run," said Cath, heading towards her room to change. "It'll be tight, but I can come up with half, maybe more, if you can all pitch in the rest."

"I'll make some calls," said Sam. "See if I can book a few more appointments."

"And I'll go to the temp agency," said Jayda with utter sincerity. "Do they pay in advance?"

II

During her lunch break, Cath stopped at the bank. A quick consultation with a teller directed her to a cubicle where an extremely professional black woman in a bright yellow blazer with her hair pulled back into a poof of curls gave her a firm handshake, introduced herself as Lynette, and asked how she could help her.

Cath related her financial details, underscoring the need to transfer funds from the high-return savings account to one that could be easily liquidated. When she added that it needed to be done today, Lynette sucked her teeth dubiously, and began to type.

Cath took quick stock of her. Hard to get a bead on someone with such a professionally friendly demeanor. But the yellow blazer swelled invitingly at the bosom, and Cath noticed that although she wore acrylics, the nails on the index and middle fingers of her right hand were kept short.

Lynette gave a consolatory sigh. "I'm afraid that bank regulations..." she began. Cath gave a quick glance to see how well the cubicle shielded her from other eyes.

"Could you... speed up the process?" she asked, undoing a single button on her blouse. Lynette gazed with some surprise at her exposed cleavage.

"Well," she said, and moistened her lips with her tongue.

Sam paused, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

"Ah, yes," said the client. "This is my new secretary, Miss Johnson."

"Is she... aware of the services I am providing today?" Sam asked, tapping one hand with the butt of her flogger, taking in Miss Johnson from the corner of her eye as she led the way in.

"Oh, yes. I insist that she be intimately familiar with my entire itinerary, so that she will know precisely when to schedule the important, er, meetings."

"I see."

Miss Johnson was a slender young woman with large glasses and brown hair parted severely down the middle. She carried a clipboard and seemed to devote most of her attention to it. The stark decor and slight chill of Sam's dungeon did not seem to have affected her at all.

Sam snapped the flogger sharply.

"Well, then, you sniveling worm," she said, speaking now in what Naomi did not know to call her domme voice. "Let's see how well your training has held up, shall we?"

The client simpered as he knelt quickly into position. Miss Johnson's expression did not change.

It had taken Jayda longer than she expected to reach the temp agency due to her unfamiliarity with the bus schedule, but as she sat in the waiting room she looked around curiously. It was only after several minutes that she remembered she was supposed to be filling out some paperwork.

She scrunched up her nose in puzzlement at how to answer Employment History, and her nostrils trembled with olfactory freedom. She clapped her hands over her mouth. She hadn't brushed her teeth! Anyone would be able to smell Cath on her breath!

The door opened. The heavyset Polynesian woman who had given her the paperwork looked out. "All set?"

"I'm sorry," Jayda said, trying to keep her mouth as closed as possible. "Could I have a few more minutes?"

The woman neither sighed nor rolled her eyes, but Jayda felt both as the door closed again.

Employment History: Lifeguard,

she wrote,

(17-19) (summers).

Naomi spent the morning working at her desk, with her face to the window. She sent perhaps a dozen emails without much hope of a response, then plugged in her tablet and began to draw. She seemed to be waiting for something.

Around one o'clock she craned her neck to see something on the sidewalk below, then picked up her phone and navigated to the number saved as Mrs. Pérez. She hesitated a moment, looked out the window again, and pressed the Call icon.

"Hi," she said. "This is Naomi, in the ninth-floor loft? Mira, tengo algo que demostrarles. Sí. Ay, ¡qué tu mamá no te oye!"

She then calmly got up, went to the couch, arranged the cushions, fluffed the pillows, removed all her clothes, and sat down with her legs open facing the door.

A soft tap came at the door.

"It's open," she called.

Blanca and Purita Pérez stood on the threshold of the loft and stared at her. She smiled, gesturing for them to enter.

Cath's blouse was fully unbuttoned and her breasts bare. She made slow lazy circles around her nipple with one finger.

"Surely you can request an expedited process," she said in a low voice.

Lynette gazed at her, fascinated, before suddenly pushing her roller chair away from the desk and into a corner of the cubicle where no one walking by could see her.

"Maybe I could," she said, hitching up the bright yellow skirt that matched her blazer. "But I would need a good-faith gesture from you. Something to guarantee that the transfer isn't being expedited for criminal or fraudulent purposes."

Cath lowered to her knees on the carpet and crawled toward Lynette's roller chair.

"Oh, I can give you a very good-faith gesture," she smiled, and extended her tongue.

The client hung happily suspended from the arm and leg cuffs. Sam tossed the flogger to one side and walked around to face him, stretching her neck and shoulders.

"Let's talk extras," she said. "Goddess Samui is having a sale today. What's something you never dared ask her to do?"

The client stared at her, bug-eyed. His gaze traveled to Miss Johnson. Sam followed it, and smiled.

"You want to involve your secretary?"

He shook his head.

"We can't touch each other. Against HR policies. But you...."

"And you want to watch?"

He was almost shaking with anticipation too much to nod.

"Miss Johnson," Sam's voice rang out. "My client is offering to pay for you to receive my services as well. Is this acceptable to you?"

The neatly-combed head raised from the clipboard. "Yes," came the reply.

"Come here."

The clipboard was set down neatly on the seat where Miss Johnson had been sitting, and she came to stand in front of Sam. She was at least four inches taller, even in Sam's spiked platforms.

Sam circled her appraisingly.

"Are you dominant or submissive?" she asked.

"Submissive," Miss Johnson answered readily.

"Do you submit to me?"

"I do."

"Kneel." She did.

"Put out your tongue." She did.

Sam took two fingers, thrust them into Miss Johnson's mouth, swirled them, and withdrew them, watching the saliva drip back down to the tongue.

"Stand up," she instructed. "Go to the cabinet in the corner of the room. The combination is 6-9-6-9. Is that funny?"

"N-No."

"You're wrong, but it's okay. Open it. Select the strap-on that you want to be fucked with, and bring it to me."

The Polynesian woman, who introduced herself as Cindy, sat across from Jayda in a back room reviewing the paperwork.

"Now, Jayda," she sighed, "I'm afraid you have almost no useful experience----"

"But I have a good attitude," said Jayda.

"You aren't familiar with the most basic office equipment----"

"I can learn!"

"And you left your typing speed blank."

"I'm not sure how many miles per hour I can type."

"Which is why I'm going to give you a test." Cindy produced an ASCII keyboard with a little readout screen. "Now just type the words on this page here, and the keyboard will tell me how fast you go and how many errors you've made."

After five minutes of almost continuous error buzzing, Cindy asked her to stop.

Jayda sighed. "I can type a lot faster on a phone," she said. "Don't you have a phone I can show you on?"

Cindy shook her head.

"Office work is not done on smartphones," she began, but Jayda fell to her knees.

"Please," she said. "I can show you I'm good. I'm a hard worker, honest. My fingers might not be fast on that keyboard, but they're fast where it counts." She put a hand on Cindy's knee, and her gaze traveled briefly to where Cindy's khakis were bunched in the crotch.

Jayda licked her lips.

"What on earth are you suggesting----" Cindy began, but Jayda was smiling mysteriously, and her fingers began to dance along Cindy's generous thighs.

"Let me show you how good I am," repeated Jayda. "I promise you'll want to hire me." She popped open the button on the khakis and unzipped them in a single motion.

Cindy could only stare as if mesmerized at this big-eyed, soft-lipped blonde girl with the breathy voice and heaving breasts sitting on the floor between her legs and staring up at her with a pleading look. Cindy swallowed dryly, and nodded. Jayda gave a little gurgling scream of happiness, and tugged hard to bring the khakis loose.

Naomi kissed first Blanca on her right, then Purita on her left, then back again.

"You two are the prettiest girls I've ever seen in my life," she said, as sincerely as the truth could make it, one arm around each of their shoulders. Purita blushed bashfully, but Blanca said,

"What if mamá sees?"

"You leave that to me," said Naomi confidently. "What we need to figure out is how to get you girls in some hotter clothes."

Blanca shrugged. "Mamá promised to buy us more fashionable clothes," she said.

"I bet she did. And I bet she will. But I didn't say more fashionable, I said hotter. You got the tetas, you got the nalgas, you should show them off."

Reaching around, she pinched the nipples under their plain white dresses and both girls let out a little unconscious moan. Naomi let her hands wander a little further down.

"Now give me another kiss and show me what you've learned."

III

The lower half of Cath's face was submerged in Lynette's dark, velvety pussy, and she was licking as hungrily as if she hadn't eaten in days. Lynette's thighs sagged apart as she leaned her head back until it touched the wall of the cubicle, and sighed shudderingly, hissing in breath through her teeth a moment later.

"Oh, you're good at that," she said in a slightly smothered voice that meant she was trying to not be overheard.

Cath made eye contact with her, smiled, and winked, but kept licking in the same steady rhythm. Lynette shifted forward slightly in her seat, and put one hand, with its acrylic nails, on the back of Cath's head.

"Just like that," she murmured. "God, I needed this today."

Sam fastened a ball gag into the client's mouth, saying,

"I would just tell you not to interrupt us with your sniveling chatter, worm, but you can't be trusted to obey orders yet."

The client made noises which were intended to express gratitude, and Sam whipped him once more with the flogger to remind him to be silent. Once he had subsided, she turned to Miss Johnson, who was kneeling, her eyes trained on the ground.

The dark red strap-on bobbed on Sam's crotch as she moved. She circled Miss Johnson once more, taking note of a very small and controlled tremble that suggested her client's assistant was far more excited than she let on.

Sam put a finger under Miss Johnson's chin and raised it to look her in the eyes.

"Do you want to be fucked in the mouth, the cunt, or the ass first?" she said.

Miss Johnson licked her lips and glanced very briefly at the bobbing strap-on before returning her gaze to meet Sam's.

"The mouth," she whispered.

Sam gathered the woman's hair into her fist near the scalp and thrust roughly, spearing her open mouth with the veiny rubber,

"Good choice," she said, her hips slamming in and out as Miss Johnson gagged sharply against the tool. "I always like a slut with an oral fixation."

She glared at the client, who was making a high-pitched moan, and he fell silent.

Cindy's breath was coming faster and harder than she could easily control, as Jayda feasted happily on the thick rolls of flesh between her legs.

"How did you -- oh God -- how did you learn to do that?" she gasped, gripping the chair beneath her with one hand and reaching for anything on the table to steady the other.

"In college," said Jayda happily between licks. "My roommates said I was really good by the time we graduated."

"You -- you graduated from college?" puffed Cindy, clutching Jayda's paperwork in her hand and trying to look at it through swimming eyes. "Why didn't you put that down?"