Rent Controlled

For years I'd lived in the rambling old Victorian that was once a fine old lady, converted into smaller apartments when the original owner died. The landlord, a slightly daft old man named Mr. Taft took care of the place as best he could, hiring plumbers to fix leaky toilets, roofers to patch leaky roofs, electricians to repair broken electrical boxes.

Most of the tenants were a mixed breed, from young couples, to retirees on fixed incomes, to studious college froshes looking for their first place. Mr. Taft made sure that each tenant respected the place and kept it trouble free. As neighbors we watched out for each other, carried in sacks of groceries, watched each others kids in the street on hot summer days. It was a nice place to cohabitate.

Upon the death of Mr. Taft from a massive stroke, his grandson, a greedy young man named Scott Blair took over, and the entire scenario became a battle ground. He'd intended to sell the place and have it torn down due to the excellent spot the house inhabited, the land being turned into luxury condominiums. But due to a codicil in the will, Mr. Taft made it perfectly clear that the house was to remain standing, that all the tenants were to be on a rent controlled system, and that all repairs and work around the place was to be done on a timely basis. Scott attempted to try and convince the judge that his grandfather was suffering from Alzheimer's at the time he wrote the will, but when the court asked for witnesses about Mr. Taft's character, I was the only one to testify. The judge ruled in favor of the will, and as I left the courtroom, I could feel Scott's eyes boring into me. This would not turn out pretty.

Within months, the house began to show signs of wear, with leaky toilets, faulty electric, leaky roof, crumbling tile in the lower vestibule. Despite the will, Scott was not about to fix anything, and was determined to let the place destroy itself so we'd have to move. I wasn't about to stand for this nonsense, and called the other tenants into having a rent strike. As one may have guessed, this did not bode well with Scott, and we called him to a meeting one night in Mrs. Casey's place, the only one with enough room to hold everyone. He showed up, dressed in a smartly pressed Brooks Brothers suit, dripping with gold, and diamonds, with a tall, dark Italian gentleman sporting a thick porn star mustache, massive arms, a barrel chest, and a permanent scowl across his face.

'Now, I can understand your frustration. Things have been difficult for me, with the passing of my grandfather and working out the terms of his will. I'm doing my best with the help of Alfonso here to get things back up to code'.

'Bullshit. You're dragging your collective ass. I saw you in court, and you practically tried to snowball the judge into giving you the property so you could bulldoze it into condos. Or did you fail to tell anyone that?' The looks of the other tenants told me what I needed to know.

'Is this true?' Mr. Koritzky, a tiny, retired Jewish storeowner said in a meek, yet astonished voice.

'It's all true. I was there in front of the judge. He has no plans to fix this place up, despite the will. We all need to go to the housing board and file a formal complaint against our slumlord.' The room became filled with loud voices, demanding justice, yelling for change. I stood back, filled with defiance, feeling good for what i'd done. Scott's ice blue eyes stared at me with deep hatred, and he clenched his teeth as he spoke, his hands balled up, nails cutting deep into his palms.

'I will have everything fixed within the month. There is no need to become excited and make threats. I can assure you this will be taken care of.' His eyes never left me as he walked from the room, Alfonso bringing up the rear. Suddenly the entire building erupted in applause, shaking my hand, hugging me.

'We can't thank you enough for everything you've done, bubeleh.' Mr. Koritzky spoke, clapping me on the back with his gnarled hand.

'You were magnificent.' Mrs. Kennedy, a wizened old woman of ninety chimed in. 'You had him shaking in his boots'. As the meeting dissolved, I got a sick feeling this was not going to turn out as well as I'd planned. I was almost sure of it.

One afternoon I was home from work, busy trying to fix the leak in the toilet. The water was trickling from the back of the commode, and pooling onto the ancient tile. That along with the stove that wouldn't light half the time, and the front window that failed to latch, it was a neverending deluge of issues that had been failed to be either fixed or even though of.

There was a loud rap on my door, and when I opened it, both Scott and Alfonso were standing in my doorway, their faces blank of expression. 'May we come in, Mr. Addison?' I stepped aside as they entered. I closed the door behind me and stood there, my arms crossed.

'Well, you've certainly caused us a lot of problems. This could have all gone away, and everyone would have been happy. But, oh no, you had to open up your big fucking trap and mess it all up. I was planning on giving you all enough money to relocate to another part of town so I could sell the building to a developer. He was planning on giving me quite a substantial amount for this land. Now the deal's in limbo. And again, I have you to thank for it.' He kept a steely gaze upon me. His thick blonde hair was disheveled and his Polo shirt and neatly pressed chinos were spotted with mud. Alfonso was clad in a green zip up jump suit and steel toed work boots, his hirsute hand adorned with a single gold and opal pinky ring. He chewed upon a toothpick, standing very close to Scott.

'You don't give a flying fuck about your grandfather, or anything he stood for. He loved this place, and everything around it. And you are choosing to destroy it? I'm not gonna let that happen. Not if I have to see you in court, you filthy cocksucker.' Without warning, Scott walked over and grabbed me by the shirt, and threw me to the floor. My head hit the slippery wood surface, and when I looked up, he was unzipping his pants, pulling out a huge, veined cock which measured at least 9 inches or more, with a huge mushroom head.

'You're the filthy cocksucker, boy. Suck my fucking dick, you pansy bitch', he growled. I spit towards him and it struck him directly in the face. Alfonso walked over to me and grabbed the back of my shirt. He pulled me into the air and carried me over to where Scott stood. Pushing my face down, he held my head immobile as Scott pushed the hard tool into my lips. 'Suck it, bitch. Suck my fucking dick, cum whore'. I resisted at first, but somehow this was turning me on, and I wasn't sure why. I took his massive tool, and began to fellate him, working the shaft with my tongue. cupping his balls with my hands. Strangely, Scott responded with a gentle moan, his entire demeanor changing.

'Damn, suck that cock. Suck my fucking tool, man. You feel so goddamn good'. His hips were swaying as I deep throated him, and I saw him throw his head back towards the ceiling. Alfonso unzipped his uniform and suddenly a large, muscular frame covered from head to toe in curly dark hair appeared before with an even bigger member between his legs.

'Suck on my cock, baby.', he begged with a thick Bronx dialect. 'Suck this for me'. I turned to him and took him into my mouth, his hand pressing against the back of my neck, pushing his tool in deeper into my mouth.

'Fuck yeah. Oh, baby, you're incredible. Hell yeah'. Scott was stroking his cock, rubbing his smooth chest with his hands.

'Alfonso, we need to teach this boy a good lesson, don't ya think?' He looked over and nodded. Alfonso looked down at me and smiled.

'So I bet you're wondering who do you have to fuck to get anything fixed, right?' He pulled me to the couch, turned me around, spread my ass cheeks and plowed into my asshole. He began to fuck me hard and strong, slapping his balls against the cheeks of my ass, as Scott stood in front of me again, forcing his cock into my mouth. I was getting it from both ends, and I became extremely hard. Precum began to ooze from the head of my cock, and I started to jerk myself off. Alfonso stopped me and pulled my hands away.

'You ain't getting off, pardon the expression, that easy.' He chuckled and continued assaulting my asshole. Scott was on his knees sucking my cock, worshipping my balls, then licking my chest, biting on my nipples and Alfonso's massive tool shoved itself deep into my shaft. I cried out in ecstacy, and begged him to continue. This was incredible, and I didn't want it to stop.

Scott took over where Alfonso had left off, fucking my ass with his cock, while Alfonso sucked my cock, his mustache tickling the skin on my penis. He worked my nipples with his hairy paws, and Scott's balls slapped the skin of my ass.

With a cry, Scott pulled out and shot his hot load all over the back of my shirt, covering me with a fine spray of semen. Alfonso retaliated with his own cum, spewing it all over my face, slapping his cock against my mouth.

They both cleaned up and got dressed. As I stood there, exhausted, covered in their semen, Scott looked over at me and grinned.

'I'm gonna keep my grandfather's word. Everything will be fixed. This place will remain in tip top shape. On one condition. You will submit to us whenever we want, whatever time we specify. If it's two in the morning, you'll be up waiting for us. You're gonna keep this place open, and the tenants happy? Got it, bitch boy?' Alfonso smiled as well, and reached over and grabbed me by the ass.

'This is my ass. Remember that. Anytime I want it, it's mine. Got that?' He smacked it and both walked out the door, leaving me both sated and breathless.

Yes, I'd got my point across. The place was repaired, no one had to move out of their apartments, and I for one was actually glad it was 'rent controlled', so to speak.