Ms.Ivy

You sit in your chair and review all of the tenant files on your computer and one tenant catches your eyes.

Madison Ivy.

Age: 26

Unit 8C

Married for just over a year to a mid-level corporate salesman who travels constantly.

She’s stunning — a petite, tight-bodied beauty with long wavy dark hair, bright eyes, full lips, and an incredibly sexy figure. She looks like she could be a model or pornstar. No kids yet, but she’s clearly in her prime. Her husband is often away for days at a time, leaving her alone in that big apartment.

You’ve watched her plenty on the cameras. Today, when you knock on her door at 11:30 AM, she opens it wearing a tight, fiery red strapless dress that clings to her body. The dress shows off a generous amount of cleavage and hugs her perky tits and slim waist, flaring out into a short flirty skirt. A thin white belt accentuates her curves. She looks far too dressed up for a random Tuesday at home.

Her expression shifts from neutral to visibly uncomfortable the second she sees you — the fat, sweaty, disgusting landlord standing in her doorway.

“Oh… Mr. Rose,” she says, trying (and failing) to hide her disgust. One hand instinctively pulls at the top of her red dress, trying to cover a bit more cleavage. “Um… is there a problem?”

You let your greedy eyes slowly roam over her body — from her pushed-up tits down to her smooth legs — before answering with a sleazy grin.

“Rent’s two months behind, Mrs. Reynolds. That’s $4,000. I’ve been more than patient… but my patience is running out.”

Her face goes pale. She shifts nervously, one hand still holding the hem of her short red dress.

“We’ve been a little tight lately because of my husband’s travel expenses… Can we get just a little more time? He gets paid at the end of the month and—”

You cut her off, taking a heavy step forward. Your large, sweaty body is now very close to hers. The smell of your sweat fills the small space between you two.

Madison instinctively tries to take a step back but is blocked by the half-open door. Her hand is still nervously gripping the hem of her short red dress.

“I’ve heard every excuse there is, Madison,” you say slowly, savoring her discomfort. “Two months behind on rent is a serious problem. $4,000 is no easy money.”

Her face turns pale. She looks down, clearly embarrassed.

“We’ve been struggling a bit lately with my husband’s travel costs and everything…” she says quietly. “Can we please have just a little more time? He gets paid at the end of the month, I swear we’ll catch up—”

You raise your hand, cutting her off again.

“I’ve been very patient with you. But patience has its limits.”

"Please, just give me a few more days okay?" she pleads, her voice soft and desperate. She looks up at you with wide, anxious eyes, still clutching the hem of her short red dress.

You don’t reply immediately. Instead, you take another slow step forward, your heavy, sweaty body looming over her smaller frame. The strong odor of your sweat and body fills the narrow space. Madison’s back presses fully against the door frame now — she has nowhere left to go.

You look down at her, your eyes openly roaming over her pushed-up cleavage and the way the tight red fabric hugs her waist and hips.

“A few more days?” you repeat, your voice low and mocking. “You’ve already had two months, Madison. Two whole months of living rent-free in my building.”

You lean in slightly, your big gut almost touching her stomach.

“I need a reason to keep being generous. A good reason.”

Your gaze lingers shamelessly on her body as you speak.

“So tell me… what are you willing to do to convince me to give you more time?”

Madison’s face flushes deep red. She looks away, clearly humiliated, her breathing shallow and quick.

“Mr. Rose… please,” she whispers.

She bites her lip, visibly fighting back tears of embarrassment and fear.