Rent Due
Copyright© 2026 by Dilbert Jazz
Chapter 11: Consequences
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 11: Consequences - In a rundown Kansas City apartment, unemployed Mia pays rent with her body. What begins as voyeuristic window shows for neighbor Caleb escalates when landlord Harlan blackmails her with hidden videos. Coerced submission turns into craving—first private, then courtyard, alley, street, bar. Double-teamed under strangers’ phones and headlights, Mia’s addiction deepens: vulnerability becomes power, shame becomes ecstasy. She begs for more exposure, more claims, until surrender is her only identity.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Blackmail Coercion Reluctant Fiction DomSub MaleDom Humiliation Light Bond Rough Spanking Gang Bang Group Sex Anal Sex Cream Pie Double Penetration Exhibitionism Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys Squirting Tit-Fucking Big Breasts Public Sex 2nd POV ENF
The video went viral at 2:17 a.m.
Someone in the crowd outside the bar on 12th & Walnut had uploaded it within minutes—shaky vertical footage, 4K from a newer phone, audio crisp enough to catch every slap, every cry, every guttural command. The title: “Kansas City Bar Slut Gets DP’d in Public – Real or Setup?” By 3:00 a.m., it had 12,000 views on X and was reposted to Reddit’s r/PublicFreakouts and r/NSFW411, with captions like “This chick is unhinged” and “Anyone know who she is?” By morning, it was on Pornhub under “Public Gangbang – Bar Booth,” tagged with “real,” “crying,” “cumshot,” “forced.” Views climbed to 87,000 by noon. Comments flooded in—some horrified, some aroused, some doxxing attempts already circling.
Mia woke at 10:43 a.m. to her phone vibrating off the nightstand.
She opened X first—trending in Kansas City: #12thWalnutSlut. The thumbnail was her—bent over the lamppost, skirt hiked, cum streaking her face, eyes glassy under streetlight. The caption: “She begged for it. Filmed last night. Thoughts?”
Her stomach dropped—cold, hollow, as if someone had punched through her diaphragm. She scrolled. Hundreds of replies. “Fake.” “Hot af.” “Arrest her.” “Where does she live?” “I was there—real.” Screenshots of her face zoomed in, cum dripping from her chin, lips parted in mid-cry. Someone had already started a reverse-image search thread.
She opened messages. Unknown numbers. “Saw you last night. You’re famous now.” “DM for collab?” “You okay?” “Slut.” Her hands shook so hard she dropped the phone.
The vibrator—Caleb had never turned it off—still buzzed faintly inside her from the night before. She reached down, pulled it out with a wet sound, cum and her own wetness coated her fingers. The scent hit her—musky, salty, undeniable—and her core clenched involuntarily. Even now, even with panic clawing her throat, her body responded.
She sat on the edge of the bed—sheets still stained, fairy lights dimmed in daylight—and stared at the open window. The courtyard below was silent, frost glittering on the cracked concrete, the dying maple bare and black against the gray sky. Somewhere down there, Harlan was probably watching. Somewhere across, Caleb’s light would be on tonight.
Her phone buzzed again. Harlan.
Video everywhere. Cops called. Stay inside. Tonight. My place. We talk.
Caleb texted seconds later:
Saw it. 300k views now. You’re viral. Come to my apartment first. We need to plan.
Mia stared at the messages—heart thundering, mouth dry, thighs pressing together despite herself.
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