The Sublet

It's day 28 of Donna Henderson's curse (as introduced in one of my other stories on this site: The LIAR and the WITCH Bk. 01-03), just before their big party.

Nancy Tanner has been impacted by the curse without knowing it, and is putting her life back together after mysteriously succumbing to her base desires twice in the last week. Unfortunately, her girlfriend can't handle it, so Nancy is looking into a sublet. She doesn't know it yet, but she's about to succumb a third time, and the exotic woman who owns the condo might actually know why!

*****

"So, why don't you tell me about yourself, Nancy," asked the exotic looking woman with the accent that Nancy Tanner still hadn't quite been able to place. "Why are you in need of a place to live?"

As Nancy took another sip of the incredibly warming drink that her host had given her, she wondered exactly how much to tell the woman.

I mean really, after the week I've just had? Where the hell do I start?

First, there was the sexually-charged encounter with the handsome customer in the change room at work last Saturday. Sure, they hadn't actually touched each other, but there was the small issue of the performance that she'd put on for him! It was completely out of character for her, but it had still been so incredibly electrifying. Nancy had been horny for three solid days after that experience, pretty much completely overwhelming her girlfriend in the process.

And then, there had been the incident on the city bus on Tuesday. Maybe if Nancy hadn't still been so worked up because of what had happened in the change room, she wouldn't have succumbed to the stranger on the bus just three days later. Sure, she hadn't been the only one to lose control that day and after all, according to the authorities, they had all been exposed to some kind of military-grade aphrodisiac, but still. Nancy was a lesbian. What was she thinking, bending over for a complete stranger in a nice suit, and letting him fuck her like a bitch in heat on the floor of a public bus?

That, of course had been the straw that had broken the camel's proverbial back for her girlfriend, Angela.

Already exhausted and distressed by Nancy's new insatiable sex drive, not to mention her new proclivity for all manner of sex toys, Angela had simply had enough. The older, more conservative woman had dumped Nancy pretty much once she'd gotten home from the hospital Thursday morning, a full day and a bit after the encounter on the bus. Angela had given her seventy-two hours to move her stuff out of the apartment that they had shared for two and a half years.

In retrospect, Nancy had known this was coming; Angela was just too unadventurous for her now. Nancy couldn't describe it, but her body was on fire for more. Not just for more sex (although that was certainly part of it), but for more of everything and everyone. There were so many experiences that she wanted to try now and she didn't want to be limited by labels, genders, or inhibitions. Not anymore.

Nancy had tried to pretend to be genuinely upset at Angela's sudden eviction notice (it had, after all, been Angela's apartment in the first place—something that had been brought up each time Nancy suggested they paint the walls a different colour), but she had actually been mostly relieved. Especially when Angela had told her that she was leaving immediately to stay with friends for the next few days in order to give Nancy the space she needed to pack her things and go.

When her former girlfriend had left, Nancy had actually breathed a long sigh of relief at finally being alone. The young redhead had just spent all day Wednesday forcibly confined to a hospital bed where she had been questioned, poked, prodded, and tested. She had lied to the medical authorities when she'd said that she hadn't been feeling any lingering effects from the aphrodisiac—that, Nancy knew for a fact, she'd now been exposed to twice in the matter of three days—when all she wanted to do was stick her hand down her panties and go to town. She knew that if she gave in to temptation and jilled herself in the hospital bed though, they'd have kept her longer, so she tapped into reserves of self-control that she didn't know she had, and managed to restrain herself.

So, naturally, the first thing that Nancy did, once she had locked the door behind a departing Angela, was to make a dash for the bedroom so that she could try out a masturbatory scenario that she'd been dreaming about for a full day: Her on her hands and knees, sucking on a fake cock that was suction-cupped to a full length mirror, with a pulsating butt-plug in her ass, while pistoning a thick knobby vibrator in and out of her pussy from below. As it turned out, this experience had proved to be a good one, as was evidenced by the huge puddle of cum that she'd sprayed all over the floor of the bedroom. Twice.

Even so, it took a further two orgasms, in bed with her legs reaching for the ceiling, to finally get the young woman to the point where she could think half-way straight. Then, after showering herself and getting dressed in her casual clothes, Nancy sat down in front of her computer with the intent of catching up on what she'd missed over the last day and then searching the classifieds to find a place to stay.

The first thing that she did was to log into her email where she found about a dozen messages from friends checking up on her, as well as one from her boss, Cassim informing her that her request for medical leave had been approved.

Excellent. That gives me a week to get my life settled again.

Next, Nancy launched Facebook and, as luck would have it, at the top of her newsfeed was a post about a friend of a friend of a friend who was looking to sublet a room in her condo downtown. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. In fact, one could have even said that it was magical. It was like the universe was giving her a break finally, after having turned her quiet life upside down by unfairly exposing her to the same freakish rut-inducing aphrodisiac twice in the same week.

Nancy emailed the contact immediately and got a response back straightaway offering an interview time the next morning at 9 AM. Scarcely able to believe her luck, Nancy confirmed the time for the interview, and then went back to bed to fuck herself some more with her knobby friend.

Surprisingly, Nancy actually got a fairly good night's sleep that night. But only after she'd eventually moved to the spare bedroom around midnight because the sheets in the master bedroom were soaked from all of her self-induced squirting orgasms. She had been far too exhausted to change them, so she'd just changed rooms instead. Besides, it made it easier to sleep in that apartment without Angela beside her.

The next morning, Nancy got up early, had several very large glasses of water, showered, and had begun to get dressed when she had become distracted by how good she looked in her pink frilly underwear. Naturally, she ended up masturbating for herself in the mirror, while imagining that it was the handsome stranger from the change room who was watching her again. After she'd cleaned the mirror and showered for a second time, she set out to get dressed again.

She knew that she had to set the right tone with what she wore to the interview, so she went for the modest, innocent girl-next-door look, by way of a light blue gingham sundress and a handkerchief in her shoulder-length strawberry-blonde hair.

Nancy really wanted this to work out. She'd looked up the address online last night and it turned out that the condo was in a really nice building in a really nice area of town. What's more, beyond how insanely affordable the rent was, the location would be much closer to work, meaning that she wouldn't have to take that god-forsaken bus, on which everybody would just be looking at her weird, now that the incident had been all over the news.

When Nancy approached the building, at around 8:45, she was taken aback, and not for what would be the first time that morning. It was an elegant building, to be sure, but a lot more luxurious than she had been expecting. Hell, there was even a doorman ... er, doorwoman, as well as a security guard in the lobby!

"Hi," Nancy said politely to the tall woman behind the desk as the doorwoman swung the front door closed behind her. "I'm Nancy ... um Tanner. I'm here to see Miss. Richards about a sublet. Apartment 2501. Is this the right building?"

The security guard smiled kindly. "Yes, you've got the right building, Miss Tanner," the woman said without even having to look up her name on her screen. "She's expecting you. The elevators are up ahead and on the right."

"Oh. OK. Um ... well, thank you."

Nancy tucked an errant strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her left ear and gripped her shoulder bag nervously as she walked towards the elevator bank, trying not to make a big deal about staring at the building's stylish and stately lobby. Everything was just so ... marbled. Nancy wove her way through a maze of butterscotch coloured columns with streaks of what looked like real gold. There were large potted ferns and stunted palm trees strategically placed about the room, as well as white statues nestled into lighted alcoves. And to top it all off, there was a scent on the air, like a salty sea breeze.

Despite what the security guard had just said, Nancy was still thinking—as her footsteps echoed through the cavernous lobby—that she had to have gotten the address wrong.

It probably shouldn't have come as a surprise to Nancy that the elevator had an operator, but she was still slightly taken aback as the uniformed black woman asked her, "Which floor, Miss?"

"Oh, Hi," answered Nancy. "It's ... ah, the twenty-fifth."

"Certainly." The woman turned a key in the panel, pressed the button labelled "PH" and pulled a lever. As the elevator lurched into motion, Nancy was wondering why the woman had pressed the button for the Penthouse. She remained convinced that the operator had made a mistake until she scanned the numbers on the panel, and saw that the highest number above the PH button was 24.

This is a penthouse apartment? What kind of a freaky alternative reality am I in?

The old-fashioned elevator rocked and shook a little as it rose. The operator looked unimposing, and even tried to engage Nancy in small talk as they rode, but Nancy was far too nervous. She tried to be polite, but all she could manage were mono-syballic answers. The operator didn't seem to mind though. Through a kind smile and a comforting disposition, she kept the conversation going all on her own.

When the elevator finally came to a stop a few minutes later, the operator pulled the metal doors open and pointed at the door at the end of a truncated hallway.

"Miss. Richards' place is straight ahead. Have a nice day Miss. Tanner."

"Yes ... well, um, thank you very much," Nancy said as she stepped off the elevator, not giving a second thought to the fact that the operator knew her last name, even though she hadn't actually offered it up in conversation.

As the elevator doors closed behind the young redhead, she glanced at her phone to check the time. It had only taken five minutes to enter the building and ride the elevator to the twenty-fifth floor. She was still ten minutes early.

Well, better too early than too late I suppose.

She couldn't very well just hang out in the hallway for ten minutes, even though there was a plush arm chair to the right of the elevator door, right beside another huge fern. So, stepping forward as confidently as she could muster, even as she wondered if she was being watched on security cameras, Nancy tapped assertively on the apartment door labeled 2501.

The door slid open a little under the weight of her knocking, and through this new opening, Nancy could hear someone calling her name.

"Come on in Nancy," said a lilting, exotic voice from inside the apartment. "The door is open."

Slowly, just in case quick movements would dissolve the hallucination that she was clearly having, Nancy opened the door to the penthouse apartment and walked in. It was at this point the young redheaded woman was promptly deprived of her breath.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

Nancy had only even seen homes like this on television, or on ads for lotteries. The short hallway in front of her opened up quickly into a huge stainless steel kitchen on the left, and a vast wall of windows straight ahead that had a pair of broad patio doors leading to a balcony that looked larger than her last two apartments combined.

Luxury simply didn't begin to describe this space. It was tremendous. The floors were a mottled marble and the ceilings were simply cavernous. Thick frames hung on the wall with the kind of artwork that would take days to truly admire properly. As Nancy ambled slowly and carefully down the hall, her footsteps echoing off the walls, and into the open space in front of the kitchen, she saw more of the ferns and tiny palm trees from the lobby, as well as pedestals holding the kind of ornate urns that you'd normally see in museums. The young redhead pulled her shoulder bag closer to her body to make sure that she didn't knock any of these antique looking items over.

Seriously. What on earth does a woman who can afford a place like this need with a roommate?

Still, if the penthouse apartment blew Nancy away, she was doubly affected when its owner walked into the room.

Coming from around the corner ahead of Nancy, moving with the graceful silence of a big cat, came a woman who looked like she'd stepped right out of a book about Greek mythology. She had a rich olive complexion, and black, loosely curled hair hanging all the way down to the middle of her back. Striking didn't begin to describe her, and Nancy couldn't take her eyes off the woman with her strong shoulders that were tastefully exposed in an off-white cold shoulder cami top with ruffled sleeves that, in turn, was casually tucked into a pleated mini skirt with a colourful floral print that shimmered the closer you looked at it. Around her neck, the woman wore an intricate golden chain that suspended a bright red stone over just the right amount of cleavage.

Am I blushing? Please don't let me be blushing.

So absorbed was Nancy in admiring the Goddess who had just swept into the room, that she didn't even notice the hand that was extended in her direction. When the befuddled young woman finally realized that she was expected to shake the stunning condo owner's hand, she slowly reached out and took it weakly. The stranger's skin was warm and very soft to the touch.

"I'm ... um ... Nancy. Nancy Tanner," stammered the young redheaded woman as their clasped hands moved perfunctorily up and down. "I'm here about the sublet ... um, Miss ..." Nancy hesitated. Her mind drawing a blank, even though she'd used the woman's last name not five minutes earlier.

To say the least, this stumbling introduction wasn't the best of first impressions, but the other woman didn't appear to notice. She smiled warmly at Nancy and said, "Anatolia will do fine. I'm not much on formalities. It's a pleasure to meet you Nancy. Please, join me in the living room." Anatolia released Nancy's hand, turned and, without waiting to see if she was being followed, walked back the way she had come to disappear around a corner again.

Obediently, Nancy followed Anatolia, having to skip a few steps to catch up. Turning the corner, the young redhead found herself entering a room with a vast cathedral ceiling and a crackling fireplace beside the entrance to a wide hallway along the far wall. Skylights in the ceiling cast long columns of light along the floor that alternated and contrasted intricately with equally long lines of shadows. In the center of the room sat a couple of couches and arm chairs, all organized around a rectangular coffee table made from what appeared to be the bowsprit of an old galleon.

Anatolia gestured at one of the arm chairs. "Have a seat please," she said as she walked over to a side table that held an intricate looking tea pot. "Let me pour you a tea," she announced in a tone that made it clear that it wasn't a question. "I just made a pot of my family's own special brew. Comes right from the home country."

"Um ... OK," said Nancy sniffing the steamy spice in the air that she was just now noticing and that was obviously coming from the tea pot. "That'd be great."

The young redhead sat down in the seat that Anatolia had indicated, placing her shoulder bag beside the chair, crossed her legs as elegantly as she could, and then arranged her short summer dress over them so that she didn't inadvertently flash her panties during the interview.

A moment later, Anatolia was placing a wide glass mug on the table in front of Nancy with one hand, while holding an ancient looking earthen-ware pot in the other. Once she'd released the mug, she picked up a wooden utensil off the table, the kind that you'd use to serve honey, and dipped it into the pot. A moment later, she pulled it out, dripping with a thick golden syrup that almost seemed to glow.

"A friend of mine has her own apiary," Anatolia explained as she twirled the dipper slowly and hypnotically in front of Nancy's face to gather up all of the free-falling drips, before finally slipping the honey dipper into Nancy's tea without first asking if she even wanted any. "Her bees truly make the most exquisite honey. Some have even called it

magical.

"

"Oh wow," stammered Nancy, overwhelmed by the woman's hospitality. "Thank you."

As Anatolia sat down in the seat across from her, Nancy took the steaming mug, lifted it to her mouth and started to blow on it. The steam that bathed her face as she held the mug beneath it made her feel as if she were sitting by a campfire; the drink was already warming Nancy and she hadn't even drank any of it yet. When she finally reached forward with her lips to take a tentative sip, the hot liquid slid slowly and languidly down her throat, radiating a deeply relaxing warmth through her body and out to her extremities as it went.

"Mmmmmmmmm," murmured Nancy happily, continuing to bask in the glow of the steam dancing over her face.

It was while the drink was pleasantly assaulting each and every one of Nancy's senses that the exotic looking woman entreated Nancy to introduce herself and then explain why she was in need of a place to live.

"OK ... about me," Nancy answered. "Well, locally born and raised. I finished my MBA a few years back, and I ... um ... work as a ... well, I have a retail position at a store in the local mall. I've been there about two years, now." Nancy postulated that it probably wasn't a good idea to open with the fact that she worked in an Adult Novelties store, even if it was a good job. She took another sip and closed her eyes this time as more of the hot liquid slid down her grateful throat. When she opened her eyes again, she saw that Anatolia was staring at her expectantly.

Oh yeah. She asked me another question too didn't she?

Nancy giggled girlishly, as if she were drunk.

Is it getting warm in here?

Anatolia was smiling almost smugly as she too sipped her tea. "And, you're looking for a place because..." she prompted the red-headed woman, repeating the second part of her question.

"Because my girlfriend broke up with me," answered Nancy bluntly, without even really meaning to. Her mouth seemed suddenly to have a mind of its own.

"I see. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Well, me too," added Nancy. "But ... well, maybe it was time to move on anyway."

The mysterious looking host had that self-satisfied grin again. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, I don't know how much to tell you." It appeared that Nancy's better judgement was finally kicking in. She'd already given away too many personal details.