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Landlord Rules!

By THRONE

© 2019-2055 QoSBookclub

 All Rights Reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact us by sending us a DM 

At  patreon.com/QoSBookclub 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

**DEVIN DICKIE NOTE**

All characters are OVER 18 years of AGE! This is a bullying fantasy and not real.  The acts in the following written work are only consensual  sexual choices and fantasy humiliation scenarios.

Bullying is NOT OKAY and If you or someone you know is being bullied, please alert the authorities. 

Landlord Rules!

By THRONE

I stood in front of the mirror in my new apartment, in the building I had recently inherited.  The previous tenant had hung it too high for me and I made a mental note to have the maintenance guy lower it.  Before that, I was also going to talk to some of the tenants and knock them into line.  There was one apartment in particular, on the third floor, that needed attending to.  A couple of young women lived there and they were prone to be noisy late at night.  No one had complained about them but I intended to be proactive and stop a problem before it might get to that point.  

My reflection smiled back at me.  I'm short and slightly built, but I compensate for that by dressing well and looking good.  My biggest visible asset is my hair, rich auburn and reaching to my collar in the back, almost as long on the sides.  I combed it fussily and used some product to hold it in place, exactly the way I liked.  It always paid to have the right appearance when I went to lay out the law for some of my new renters.  My designer shirt and slim-fit slacks, along with silky socks and slip-on shoes, projected an image of casual competence, with the obvious expense of everything adding a touch of authority.

The elevator took me up.  It was noisy and there were already requests from some of the residents to get it looked at, but I was in no hurry to spend a penny more than I had to on the place.  Having lost my last two jobs because of complaints about my supposed bad attitude, which made no sense whatsoever to me, I had to keep a close watch on the finances.  The rents were going to be my sole source of income and, with 18 units, would allow me to live comfortably.  I wasn't thrilled about having to reside there myself, considering that most of the apartment dwellers were people of color, but living on site had been one of the stipulations of my aunt's will.  

I got to the door of the unit in question, straightened my admittedly narrow shoulders, and gave several authoritative knocks.  The door was opened by a tall Black female with her short hair worn natural and large hoop earrings dangling below that.  All she had on was a short belted robe of some shiny material.  It showed off the deep cleavage of her substantial breasts and did nothing to hide her long shapely legs, with their well-padded thighs.  The woman's thick lips curled downward into a sneer.  I took an involuntary step backward, immediately thinking that I needed to avoid any signs of weakness like I had just shown.  

Looking down at me, she said in a lazy voice, "What's up, little man?"

Clearing my throat, I told her, "I'm Barron Blivit, the new owner of this building and your landlord."

She held up a silencing hand.  "What kind of name is that?  Blister?"

"It's Blivit," I told her haughtily.

She called back into the apartment, "Hey, Shondra."

"What, Latrice?" came an answering shout.

"There's some white dude here.  Tiny guy.  Says he's the new boss man."

"Yeah?  I hope he's gone be sweet to us, like that old lady used to be in charge."

"That old lady, as you call her," I said indignantly,  "Happened to be my aunt."

"And?" Latrice wanted to know.  "What?  I heard she passed on.  You get this place from her?"

Her questions threw me off my rhythm.  I was going to continue, as soon as I could find the words, but she turned her back and moved away from me.

Latrice called back over her shoulder, "Come on in.  I ain't going to stand in the doorway to talk."

I followed her, determined to regain control of the exchange.  She plopped down on a worn old sofa, which made her robe side up and expose even more of the dark flesh of her upper legs.  My mouth went dry and my throat constricted.  Her roommate appeared from the small kitchen.  She was as tall as the first one, with an even fuller figure.  In her case, it was displayed by a sleeveless man's undershirt with no bra, and white panties that let me see the distinct shape of a 'camel toe'.  She let her double-wide bottom drop onto the sofa, at the far end from the other girl.  I could see the nipples of her heavy boobs, which seemed to defy gravity, through their thin covering.

"The reason I'm here," I began, as a shiver ran up my back, "is because there have been complaints about noise coming from this apartment at night."

"Who complained?" Latrice wanted to know.

"What nights?" Shondra demanded.

"Well, there actually haven't been any complaints yet, but I'm trying to avoid that.  I heard loud voices myself, male voices, but I don't remember what night."

"So," Latrice summarized, "nobody made a stink, and it was some dudes who came to visit and maybe got loud now and then."

Shondra took up their response with, "Don't sound like a problem to me."

That made me feel defensive.  I needed to get tough.  Without thinking further, I snapped at them, "Now you listen to me.  I'm in charge here and I won't have you questioning my decisions."

"What decision you made?" Latrice wondered out loud, as if I wasn't talking sensibly.  

"I won't be talked to like that by your kind," I blurted out.

Both of their faces turned serious.  Latrice told me, "And I don't like your tone."

Shonda added, "I don't like that sass-mouth you're giving us.  We got to get it straight who's who and what's what."

Latrice commanded, "Get over here and sit down, boy."  She patted a spot between them.

"This can wait until later," I extemporized, suddenly on the retreat.

"It can wait until right now," Shondra shot back in a no-nonsense way.

"That is," Latrice offered, "unless you want me to get up, come over there, and get physical."

Was she threatening me?  My knees were in danger of buckling.  Rather than risk appearing unsteady, I went to the women and sat.  They shifted closer to me, until I was pinned in by soft warm hips.  Even though they certainly weren't my types, I experienced a rush of erotic energy that ran through my system and arrived at my crotch.  Latrice ruffled my fastidiously coiffed hair, making some fall across my brow.  I was upset that she had undone my careful preparations.  Latrice gave my leg a squeeze, near to where I had just had that surge of sexual force.  

Latrice said, "If you going to be the boss of us, rent-wise, we got to all be friends."

Shondra's hand went to the back of my neck and rubbed.  "Us all can be real close, if you know what I mean."

"Well, yes," I said hesitantly, with my mind going in two directions at once.  "But the bottom line is..."

"Now don't bottom-line us," Latrice suggested.  "We were off to a good start.  Except you had to talk down to us.  That 'your kind' attitude don't fly with us."

"It's unfortunate if you took that the wrong way..."  I needed to turn the narrative in my preferred direction.

"We didn't take nothing the wrong way, no way," Latrice insisted.  "You said it wrong, and we can't get back to that noise issue until we settle up on that first."  

Shondra's fingers tightened on my neck from behind.  She said, "Understand?"

I tried to rise but she held me in place.  Latrice's hand, still on my thigh, moved higher.  She gave me a wide grin, put her palm against my genitals, and applied friendly pressure.  

Choking as I spoke, I told them, "I understand."

Latrice's eyebrows rose.  Without removing her hand she declared, "Whoa.  How come I'm not feeling much of anything between your legs, Bar-Ron."

I didn't like how she had split my name into such distinct syllables.  Even more than that, I disapproved of what she had just said.  

"Now girls," I started over.

"You mean ladies," Shondra corrected.  

"Like Ms. Shondra and Ms. Latrice," the other informed me.

"Yes.  Right.  Sure."  I was having trouble making my voice work.  

Latrice told Shondra, "Grab hold of Bay-Ronnie down here, where my hand is.  Check out if there's much of anything there."

She removed her hand.  It was quickly replaced by her roommate's free one.  Shondra's plump lips puckered.  

"Ain't hardly nothing there.  We better check this without them trousers in the way."

"Damn right," agreed her friend.  To me she said, "Get up and drop them fancy pants."

"This has gone far enough," I said with the limited bravado I could muster.  "I'll leave now and later on you'll receive a formal letter of complaint."

They laughed at my attempt at intimidation.  Latrice ordered, "You give us a peek at your candy, or we're going to do some damage to it."

The thought of having them hurt my male parts in any way terrified me.  I decided to cooperate just enough to get past this, and take care of it later through legal means.  I wasn't averse to evicting them, if it came to that.  I rose, unfastened my slim belt, undid the pants and lowered my fly.  Even though I didn't want to, I inched down my pants.  Perhaps that would be enough for them and they would back off before this madness went any further and I was given grounds for harsh legal action.  That wasn't what happened.  Latrice tugged down my pants and let them drop to my ankles.  Shondra did the same to my jockey shorts, giving them a few extra yanks to take them past my knees.  I stood there, nude from shirttails to socks, and quivered uncontrollably.

"Day-am," exclaimed Shondra.  "He got a infant pecker."

"And," contributed Latrice, "baby balls to go with it."

There I was, exposed to my tormentors, looking down at them and praying silently for some way to flee.  Instead, they had me step out of my shoes and remove pants and underwear.  Latrice took the discarded items of clothing, vanished for a few moments, and returned without them.  What she brought back instead was sorority style paddle with several holes drilled through its striking surface.  That made me want to run more than ever but, without even knowing where my clothes had been taken, I had no choice except to stay.  She took me by the arm and headed toward the kitchen.  Shondra followed us.  

She said, "Some of those noises you heard from in here were our boyfriends.  Other ones were from some special white guys who come to visit, with money in their hands.  They got special tastes."

When I didn't say anything, Latrice carried on the explanation.  "They like to have big Black bitches like us treat them mean.  Sometimes there's spanking."  She patted my bottom with her paddling instrument.

Shondar speculated, "I think maybe you're one of them types, too, you being all short and having like miniature junk between your legs."

"So, this punishment that you earned, might turn out to be just what you wanted all along, and need."

"I'm not that way," I said with all the sincerity I could manage.  

"No?"  Latrice gave my backside another pat.  "Maybe you are and just don't know it.  Or else we could teach you to be."

Shondra said, "Instead of us paying rent, we could give you lessons on the regular."

Latrice told me, "Bend on over and put your hands on the seat of this chair, boy.  Move your feet apart.  Stick out them pale chubby buns, so I can add some color to them.  You want pink or bright red?"

Answering in my place, the other girl said, "I think dark red would be perfect.  Start his schooling with a tough lesson, to get him broke down for what comes after."

Latrice chortled.  "Yeah.  I'm thinking this one got to have the full course.  He can graduate cum-a-some-licky."

I was close to a panic attack.  Shondra turned up my shirttails and held them against the small of my back, while Latrice adjusted her position.  Glancing back, I saw the Black amazon taking a few practice swings through empty air.  She was a picture of raw power, at the same time projecting undeniable sexual force.  Though it was the worst possible moment for such a reaction, I sensed myself getting an erection.  

"Looky there," Latrice told her friend.  "His junior size dick getting all hard."

"And still ain't turning into much."

That provoked more laughter.  While I was still attempting to think of a way out of their madness, Latrice swung unexpectedly.  There was a loud fleshy smack, accompanied by a shrill cry, which I realized had come from me.  Without giving me time to catch my breath, she swung again and again, covering all of my posterior.  I squalled and jerked but didn't take my hands off the chair, because I was more afraid of angering them than I was of the discipline I was undergoing.  Tears formed in my eyes.  As much as I didn't want to show weakness, I began to cry.  My nose ran.  The pain in my sitter intensified.  My arms bent slightly, which made my rump and even more prominent target.  

Latrice said, "Them cheerleader cheeks are just right for a sissy boy like our Barony here.  They gone past pink and getting into the red zone.  Another ten or twenty swats and they'll be well done."

That many more spanks?  My knees gave out.  I ended up with my chin resting on the chair seat.  Latrice yelled at me to elevate my hips.  I did it.  When I dared to check on her, she had altered her pose, bending into her task and preparing for longarm swings from further to the side.  They hurt just as much as the other kind.  By the end, I was left hugging the chair's legs and blubbering.

Shondra objected, "I didn't get to do no damage.  He dissed me just like he did you."

Latrice handed her their weapon.  "Take a turn, sister.  Make the sucker get back up, so you can aim for the backs of his thighs."

"Holy crap," Shondra said.  "That's going to pain him more than getting whacked on the ass."

"Give it to him good.  Six hard ones.  Make spots there like I did on that thick white-boy tail end of his."

She didn't hold back.  Shondra's half dozen grew into a full twelve, due to her rampant enthusiasm for what she was doing.  Did some poor perverts really pay to have this done to them?  Who could be so twisted?

"Now we come to part two of your first day in class," Latrice announced.

"That means we move on into the bedroom," Shondra contributed.  "You can take off that shirt first."

When we got there, with me staggering from the blazing in my buns and legs, I was led to one of those tall three-panel mirrors like you might find in a changing room.  If I stood at the correct angle, I could view my abused buttocks.  What I saw made me whimper from self-pity.  Not only were they thoroughly incarnadined, but the openings in the paddle had left darker circles where the flesh had been forced into them, however briefly.  The involuntary stiffness of my dick wouldn't go away.

"Now we got a multiple-choice question for you," Latrice told me.

"Yeah," said Shondra.  "Choice one is you get your mouth all over our pussies and wherever else we say."

"Choice two," Latrice said, "is back to the kitchen for a second round of having your rump roasted.  Ain't that fair?"

Instead of risking that I might raise their wrath, I said in a shaky voice, "Yes.  It's very fair."

"How you supposed to address us?" she wanted me to remember.

I amended, "It's very fair, Ms. Latrice."  To be safe, I also said, "Thank you for giving me a choice, Ms. Shondra."

With feigned modesty, she said, "That's okay, Mr. Soft Bottom.  We just want to do what's best for you."

"And that," Latrice put in, "is whatever it takes to help you understand how you're one of those white wussies who got be mistreated to get his rocks off."

"Or in your case," Shondra fine-tuned, "not rocks but pebbles."

The two of them stripped naked.  Their ebony skin glistened with points of perspiration, from the recent exertions of blasting my bottom.  I was close enough to inhale their sweaty scents.  Though it shouldn't, what I smelled added to my unwanted excitation.  My hips jerked, which made my penis bob.  That gave them another opportunity to mock my penis dimensions.

Latrice said, "He lucky he found us, cause no regular girl would want that mini-meat in her bedroom."

Shondra went further with, "It being so one-bite-size, he fortunate we letting him get us off with his lips and tongue."

I tried to resist the lure of their statuesque physiques.  Those overstated curves seduced me against my will.  Why was I reacting that way to them?  Could it be true what they had said about me being like their masochistic customers?  

As if to answer my unasked question, Latrice took something from the dresser.  It was a pair of black panties, not sized to fit the wide hips and vast bottoms of my captors, but perfect for me.  As I drew them up my slender legs, I was reminded again about how they had characterized my rear as plump, which meant less than manly.  Even that lightweight lingerie made me more aware of how much discomfort the females had caused back there.  Next came a pair of smoky stockings.  I had to sit on the edge of the bed to roll them up my legs.  Having my weight on my sore sitter made me wince.  Then I had to prance around in my feminine underthings.

Latrice told me, "Put more swish in them hips.  Let me see you do the sissy strut."

Shondra said, "Hold your arms out some, and make those wrists all limp."

"Pucker your lips and flutter your eyelashes."

"With them dark panties on, you can't hardly tell he got a dick, even when its hard and pushing out against them."

The two dominants laid back on the mattress, side by side.  Their generous busts, incurving waists, wide hips, and full thighs were all displayed.  It was as if they were somehow addicting me to their chocolate forms.  I had to get onto the foot of the bed, in only panties and stockings, aware of the sight I made.  In tandem, the women spread their legs.  I saw tight back pubic hair and pink pussy lips, the latter protruding and rippled, moist and waiting to be pampered.  My stomach turned.  I hadn't ever used my mouth that way, not on any of the cute blonds from my dating history.  I had always been focused on my own needs.

Latrice said, "You can start on me first, then trade off between us.  Be like you're getting the full meal and dessert too."

"And there be some true dessert involved.  We was partying with a couple of brothers last night.  Making some of that noise you came here to scold us about.  Those big Black studs rode us bareback.  I never did get around to cleaning out down there."

"Me neither, too," Latrice agreed.  "That stallion pumped me full of cream.  You got a mess to lick up, Boy-ran."  

I gagged.  "Please, not that.  Can't you at least douche?  Or just shower?"

"The only douche around here is you, douchebag," Shondra said with venom in her words.  "Get to lapping up what we got for you."

"That's right," Latrice said in support of the one alongside her.  "Stop whining and start dining."

I was trapped.  With my eyes smarting from the urge to weep again, I got into position, in the bay of Latrice's thighs.   Lying on my belly, I had my rigid tool pressed under me.  The Black beauty's rubbery nether lips were inches from her face.  Along with her natural musk, I thought I smelled some anonymous male's ejaculate.  Out came my tongue for a series of long licks.  She moaned.  At her urging, I sucked on her clitoris.  That went on for several minutes, as she got wetter and I had to swallow some of her juices.  I wondered how much seminal fluid there was mixed in with them.  

"Hey, girl," said Shondra to her roommate, pretending to be annoyed.  "You got to share the goods.  Let me sample that slave boy's skills."

"You heard her," Latrice told me.  "Time to switch over.  Make sure you get your taster all up inside her snatch, so you don't miss none of the protein hiding in there."

Their repeated reminders about what I was consuming nauseated me.  I lapped dutifully and gagged down the results through a convulsing throat.  

Shondra announced, "That cock I had up in me last night was so long and thick.  His big balls was bouncing against my phat ass."

"Same here," seconded Latrice.  "I sure hope Burr-ran don't dwell on how a fat Black sausage was in me around midnight, where his sissy mouth got to be now."

"It's okay.  Freaks like our kinky white boy just loves slurping up that rich Black-man pudding, special when it's been kept warm overnight in a dark girl's twat."

My oral ordeal went on for over an hour.  Every time I was close to driving one of them to her climax, I had to move to the other.  When each of them achieved an orgasm, it was juicy and violent.  I ended up with the lower half of my face smeared in their liquids, along with whatever male contributions were included.  

Eventually, we returned to the living room.  They sat on the sofa, while I was consigned to a spot on the floor in front of them.  They lounged, now both in brief robes.  I labored, giving them foot massages and leg rubs, which caused me to remain erect.  In time, muscle aches arose in my lower back, to join the pain in my rear and the backs of my legs, which had deepened.  The flavors on my tongue tormented me.  At last, the pair took mercy on my state of being aroused but denied release.  Latrice passed me a box of tissues from the end table alongside her. 

She said, "Grab yourself a wad of these."

Shondra finished the thought with, "You can use them to catch your goo."

"I don't understand," I admitted.

Latrice sighed theatrically.  "She means you got our permissions to jerk off that widdle weed of yours.  Just make sure the scum all lands in them tissues."

"I can't do that in front of you."

"No problem.  We'll just fetch our paddle and this time use it on your nuts.  That should solve the problem of you not getting to squirt.  After we bust your nuggets, you won't need to empty them."

"Hell, they might not ever work again."

"Not that it would be a bad thing, you being too small down there to please any woman ever."

"No," I said in desperation.  "Don't hurt my testicles.  Please, Ms. Shondra.  I'm begging you, Ms. Latrice."

"Since you asked so humble and all," said the former, "it's okay.  Start tugging."

"Just use a thumb and one finger," the latter instructed.  "That's all you need with such a itty-bitty pee-pee."

They laughed at my shame.  I gathered four tissues in one hand and got the other onto my penis, with the grip they had described.  Having to wank myself with that audience to two Black seductresses humiliated me to depths I had never known I possessed.  What was troubling was that some part of me responded to it all in the way they had said, as if I was one of their pay-for-play submissives.  I groaned and gasped.  They made me take my time to prolong the ordeal. I had to diddle my nipples, which kept me at maximum levels of need, on the brink of spurting.  At long last I was permitted to cross the finish line.  I blasted out an unexpectedly generous portion into the tissues.  That left me slumped over from defeat and exhaustion.  

"Almost done," Latrice said cheerily.

"You just got to dispose of them gooey paper hankies," pointed out Shondra.

I looked around to find where I was expected to put them.  Latrice gave me the answer.  She opened her mouth, pointed to it, and then aimed her finger it my own mouth.  I understood all too well.  She ordered me to pull them apart, into two equal shares, which made sure my spunk was exposed.  

Latrice said, "And you ain't allowed to take them out of there until you gets back to your apartment."

"Till a half hour after you get in there," expanded Shondra. 

"But we got one more gift to give you.  Something to remember us by, till your next lesson."  She whispered something to Shondra, who smiled and hurried away.  She returned with an electric razor. 

Latrice told me, "Let's take a detour to the bathroom.  We don't want your hair all over our rug."

"What?"  My hands flew to my head, as if I could protect my cherished asset from what they intended.  "You can't."  My voice was distorted by that wad of tissues in my mouth.  

"What you saying?" Shondra wanted clarified.  "You saying we can't kick your balls until you ain't able to stand?"

"Or," her partner in punishment contributed, "you saying we can't shave off that pretty-boy hair?"

"The kicking," I offered quickly.  "I was saying that I hope you won't kick me...  um...  down there, Ms. Latrice.  Ms. Shondra.  If you want to use that razor on my head..."  I made myself smile, though I'm sure it wasn't convincing.  "...  just go ahead and do it."

I ended up sitting on the closed toilet, in the nude.  The shaver was plugged in and turned on.  Its sound made me quiver.  They took turns running it over my prized locks.  As hair dropped onto my shoulders and back, I sniffled.  What was I going to look like with a bald head?  They even made me stand up, so they could eliminate my limited growth of pubic hair.

"Look at that," Shondra said, pointing to my crotch.  "Now his parts look even more like they belong on a baby."

"For true," Latrice seconded.  "And we gone expect him to keep his self hairless, top and bottom."

"And under his arms and all."

"Like the sissy he is, with us as his Queens."  

Their laughter stung me.  I was taken to the mirror once more.  What I saw made me break down and sob uncontrollably.  My perfect hair was gone, with only an uneven stubble left.  Having a smooth pubic area was a deep psychological humiliation.  

A short while later, with the disgusting mess still inside my mouth, now soggy, with its contents mixing with my saliva, I was allowed to dress.  Before I was given my shirt, the females used it to wipe their vaginas, making sure to scent it well, especially near the top buttons.  Once it was on me, I couldn't avoid the compelling odor.  It was perhaps one more step in turning me into another of their pathetic pawns, if I wasn't one by nature.   They preceded me to the door.  I was told to get down on my knees.  From there, I was granted the privilege, as they called it, of putting my head under the hems of their robes and repeatedly kissing each of their bulbous asses.  To accomplish that, I pushed the used tissues into my cheeks, which gave the sides of my face a swollen appearance.   I even had to cram my nose and mouth between the bulging hemispheres, so I could reach a more intimate spot with my lips and tongue.  It was the final in a long series of insults to my battered ego.  After I had shoved my tongue inside each of them several times, I had no pride remaining.  I departed with their triumphant laughter stinging my ears.

Even though I was alone, back in my place, I didn't remove the soiled tissues until the prescribed length of time had passed.  It would have felt wrong to disobey my Queens in any way.  And I would be obeying them without question all the time, being scolded, punished and used, in lieu of collecting rent from them.  That was the new arrangement.  It was scheduled to go on, with no ending date expected for a long time, if ever.  By the terms of my aunt's will, I couldn't move out of the building.  Those ebony beauties owned me, to do with whatever they pleased, and I was sure there was much worse to come than what I had already suffered.   They had taken me from being the landlord who made rules to a landlord who had to follow others' rules without hesitation.  And I knew there would be many more landlord rules to come.

*********