© Copyright 2004

"Sabi niya, nag-e-ebict siya sa akin!" I cried into the phone ("He said he's going to evict me!)

"Walang pera na ako!" ("I don't have any money!")

"Hindi!" ("No!")

"Hindi ko alam, nanay." ("I don't know, mother.")

"Opo." ("Yes, ma'am.")

"Sige ho." ("Okay ma'am.")

I hung up the phone, despondent. It had been a forlorn hope, anyway. Mother had scraped together every peso she could to get me to the States to attend UCSF. The scholarship paid most of my school expenses but neither of us realized, until I got here, how much it would really cost!

The cousin who was supposed to let me live in his house had somehow acquired a long term house guest. I suspected that his wife was jealous and didn't want me anywhere near her husband, but that didn't help me any.

Here I was, halfway around the world from Bulacan with no money, already a month behind in my rent, and unable to work at anything except jobs that paid 'under the table' because of my student visa. My part time job as a nanny for a rich couple in the Sunset district had been just enough to pay my rent and most of my expenses. I lived hand to mouth for half the semester. When I got the speeding ticket in a borrowed car, all the dominoes fell. Unless I starved for several weeks, there was no way I could catch up.

It was either talk the landlord into giving me a break, or go back to the Philippines in shame, and give up any chance of getting the degree I came here for. I'd wind up like so many of my cousins, working as a maid in some rich Arab's house, and probably being raped like some of them were.

My mother had boasted to all the relatives about how HER daughter had been accepted to UCSF Medical School. She had been so proud of me! I just couldn't break her heart!

The landlord had seemed like a nice guy when I moved in, and the other renters told me how he watched me when I walked. Maybe I could charm him a little...

I put on a low-cut top that showed what cleavage I could muster to good advantage, and ended just below my bra. The skirt I wore would have had me kneeling on marbles while saying several decades of the rosary Under the watchful eye of Sister Catherine, at my old high school, but I was desperate.

I decided against pantyhose, but put on the high heels I had brought for dancing. Oh, what a dreamer I was!

I not only didn't have time for dancing - I'd never be able to afford the drinks at the clubs!

I touched up my makeup and with one last look in the mirror, took a deep breath, and headed downstairs.

There were four of us renting rooms from Mr. Jenkins. He was a widower who, when he found himself living alone in this huge house, decided to rent the rooms he wasn't using to college students. Between UCSF, SF State, The Academy of Art, Golden Gate University, and the Art Institute, not to mention out of town students at City College, he never had a vacancy.

The rent was actually pretty low for such a nice place, but even low rent in San Francisco is high.

I found Mr. Jenkins in the kitchen chatting with a couple of the other students living there while he sipped at his morning coffee.

"Good morning, Nina." he greeted me, as he always did.

"Good morning, Mr. Jenkins" I replied, embarrassed by the presence of the others, "may I talk to you in private, please?"

"Sure, Nina." he said "Just let me put my cup in the sink. Somebody's using the computer in the study, so why don't we go up to my room?"

I thought nothing of it. I had spoken with Mr. Jenkins in his room on other occassions when there was no other place to have a private conversation, and he was always a perfect gentleman.

He closed the door and offered me a seat on the bed, but I preferred to stand, so he sat.

"What is it, Nina?" He asked mildly, "Have you gotten the money for your back rent?"

"No, sir." I mumbled, staring at the carpet, "That's what I came to talk to you about. I know you have been very patient with me, and I wondered if you could possibly give me a little more time... ?"

He looked me over slowly from head to toe, and suddenly I was embarrassed by the way I was dressed.

"Nina, you're already a month late," he said, "and this month's rent is due today. If you can't find a way to pay it, I have no choice but to ask you to leave."

He stood and put a hand on my shoulder, his six foot four or five frame towering over my barely five fragile feet of height.

"I like you, Nina," he said gently, "and I know things have been hard for you. But I can't keep you here without some kind of compensation."

'Some kind of... ' my mind clung to that phrase even after he'd finished speaking. Was there something else I could give him?

"I-I don't have much Mr. Jenkins," I muttered, "but if there's something I have that you think is worth trading for the rent, I will gladly give it to you!"

I stared into his piercing grey eyes, hoping for a clue, a lifeline to cling to.

"There IS one thing..." he said slowly.

His eyes slid meaningfully up and down my diminutive figure.

It still took me a moment to realize what he meant, and when I did, I backed up a step and my hand flew to my open mouth as I gasped "Mr. Jenkins!"

He turned back to sit on the bed before saying anything.

"I know that's too much to ask of a nice girl like you, Nina. Just pack up your things and find another place. I'll give you 'til the end of the week to find somewhere else to live, and I won't worry about the back rent." a heavy load seemed to have settled on his shoulders. "I'm ashamed of myself for even suggesting something like that."

Inexplicably, another phrase came into my mind from what he'd said earlier: 'I know things have been hard for you... '

Suddenly, my troubles didn't seem so bad after all. All I was missing was money. For a little over two years, he had been missing the most precious thing in his life. He never went out, except to the gym, and though he seemed pleasant enough around us, there was always a shadow behind his eyes. All one had to do to see it, was look.

I sat beside him on the bed and put my arm around him, or tried to, but barely reached the other side of his broad back.

"I'm sorry Mr. Jenkins. I should not have dressed like this." I said softly, noting idly that while he was at least thirty years older than me, he wasn't bad looking, "I was so absorbed with my own problems, I didn't think what it must be like for you. Do you miss her terribly?"

He turned to look at me with a mixture of wonder, hope, and something else on his face.

"Yes, Nina, sometimes I do." air gusted from his lungs, "You remind me a lot of her. She was petite, too, but had blonde hair, and hers didn't hang down to her ass the way yours does. Still, sometimes, when I catch a glimpse of you out of the corner of my eye, I think I'm seeing her again."

"I'm sorry." I said, sincerely, for want of anything better.

He turned doleful eyes in my direction, "You've nothing to be sorry about, Nina. My time married to Kathy was the best part of my life. I consider it a favor when someone brings back even a small part of it."

"But it's not just her you miss, is it?" I prompted, "Have you not had a woman since your wife died?"

"Oh there have been other women." he sighed, "I keep myself in shape, and I'm not unattractive, but what Kathy and I had was... special. It's hard to find a woman who can help me recapture that."

My heart went out to this big, gentle bear of a man. I don't know what came over me, but I heard myself saying, "Would you like to try? With me?"

To my extreme relief and great disappointment, he shook his head. "You don't understand, Nina. What Kathy and I did wasn't just sex. Some people would call our sexual exploits kinky or bizarre."

I felt an inexplicable thrill between my legs, and moisture seeped into the lining of my panties.

"I don't care, Mr. Jenkins." I replied, "I will do my best to help you. I'm not a virgin you know."

Technically, it was true. Early in the semester one of the other girls in the house had shown me the benefits of a plastic vibrator for a busy student on a budget. Mine had been my nightly companion ever since.

Mr. Jenkins looked at me with skeptical eyes. "Are you sure?"

"It would be the least I can do for someone who's been so nice to me." I smiled.

He seemed to come to a decision, and said, "Ok, Nina, why don't you meet me in the kitchen after the other kids have gone to bed, say about eleven?"

Why he didn't want me to just come down the hall to his room, I didn't understand, but I nodded my head and said, "Ok."

He stopped me as I started toward the door, "Oh, and Nina?"

I looked at him expectantly.

"If this works out, you won't have to pay rent anymore." he smiled.

I smiled back, and left. My stomach was in knots for the rest of the day.

A few minutes before eleven, feeling a little nauseous, I slipped on my robe and tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen.

Mr. Jenkins smiled, and placing a finger to his lips for silence, motioned with his head for me to follow.

Out the back door we went, down the path and across the spacious back yard, to the guest cottage. I had always wondered why Mr. Jenkins never rented the cottage. He could have gotten twice as much rent as any of the other rooms, if not more. Instead, he kept it locked and the windows shuttered, and forbade us from trying to go inside.

'Well, ' I thought, 'I guess you're about to find out what's so secret about it, Nina.'

Mr. Jenkins had stopped and started searching in the dim light from the house for a key on his key ring. He inserted the key and when he turned it, the door opened silently.

He motioned me inside, and I stepped hesitantly into the pitch black interior. I felt rather than saw Mr. Jenkins join me, then heard the door click shut behind him. I didn't move for fear of running into something.

I heard a click and was momentarily blinded by the light. When I could open my eyes again, I found myself in a small vestibule, facing an interior door.

Mr. Jenkins stepped around me and opened the interior door, flipping a light switch inside. His bulk blocked my view of the other room as he turned and spoke to me in a different voice than I had heard him use before.

"All right, Nina; this is your last chance to back out." he stepped aside to give me a view of the room's interior, "If you decide to stay, remove all your clothes in the vestibule and step inside. Once inside, you will not be allowed to leave until tomorrow morning."

Puzzled by his demeanor, as much as by his words, I stepped toward the door and looked inside.

''Sus, Maria, Josep! (Jesus, Mary and Joseph!)' I thought wildly to myself, 'Salbaje 'to!(This is evil!)'

The room was filled with odd furniture and fixtures, most of which had some sort of cuffs or clamps attached. Chains hung from the ceiling and one wall. Whips and other implements hung from the other walls. I wasn't sure what all of them were for, and I was pretty sure I didn't want to find out!

"Uhm, Mr. Jenkins, can I ask: how did your wife die?" I asked, fearing the worst.

He smiled his usual congenial smile and said softly, "Cancer. I told you our sex life was kinky, but we both enjoyed it. In every other aspect of our lives, Kathy was my partner. Once inside this room, she was my slave. We both liked it that way, and that's why it's so hard to find another woman who will..."

His voice trailed off as he gazed longingly at the equipment in the room, then turned his forlorn gaze back to me.

"It's ok, Nina." he sighed, "You can pack tomorrow. I understand."

I took another look around the room, then turned back to the outer door. I was halfway out when I realized my little puki was soaking wet! How could that be? I glanced over my shoulder at Mr. Jenkins drooping stance, then again into the room. Without me making a conscious decision, my feet turned me around and walked me back inside.

The robe slipped from my shoulders as a feral smile crept across Mr. Jenkins face and he watched as my pajama top joined the robe.

"Beautiful!" he muttered softly as my small breasts were exposed, my dark nipples rock-hard in the chilly air.

My PJ bottoms followed my top and I stood in only my panties and slippers, once again smitten by fear. I hesitated for a long moment, then, resolutely, hooked my fingers in the waistband of my panties and dropped them around my ankles, standing defiantly before my landlord's gaze.

If my skin had not aleady been brown, it would have been red from head to toe with embarrassment. The only other person who had ever seen me nude was my mother, and now, here I stood wearing nothing but a nervous smile before a virtual stranger!

He gave me an appreciative once-over and stepped into the room, turning once more to face me before I could follow.

"Once you step over that threshold," he said, solemnly, "you will be mine for the rest of the night, to do with as I please, so be very sure."

I stood, irresolute, for several minutes. My heart quaked with fear, but my almost hairless kike (pronounced kee-kay) was a swamp. Finally, thinking Mr. Jenkins was a nice man who wouldn't really do anything to hurt me, I took a trembling step into the room. Another step, and the door slammed shut behind me!

I jumped, surprised, since Mr. Jenkins was still standing in front of me.

"All right, Nina. You have accepted my bargain." he intoned, no longer smiling, "For every night you spend with me in my 'playroom' you get one free month's rent. Tonight will pay your back rent. Tomorrow night you will pay your current month's rent."

"Tonight, we will work on obedience." His voice was not harsh, but was ominously compelling, "Tomorrow... Well, we'll see about tomorrow, tomorrow."

"While we are in this room," he continued, "you will address me as 'Sir'. Outside this room, you will continue to address me as 'Mr. Jenkins', is that clear?"

I nodded dumbly, quaking like a leaf in the wind.

Out of nowhere, a leather strap wrapped itself loudly around my flank, leaving a stripe of fire in it's wake!

When my shrieks of pain died down, Mr. Jenkins said calmly, "Answer when you're spoken to, slave."

"Um, uh, yes." I replied, then, as I saw his arm draw back, "Sir!"

Mary, Mother of God! What I walked into? I had no one to blame but myself, but oh boy, did I blame myself! Tears fell down my cheeks as I rubbed the fading streak that was now little more than a dull ache.

Then I realized what he'd called me: 'slave'! Oh my god! I should have gone home and taken that job with a rich arab! It couldn't be any worse than this, could it?

Mr. Jenkins began methodically removing his clothing, folding each item neatly and placing it on a shelf in a particular order. Despite my trepidation, I couldn't help but watch.

For a man in his fifties, Mr. Jenkins was a superb specimen of maleness. His muscles were chiseled under taut skin, and looked as if they could lift a truck off its axles.

When he finally turned around, completely nude, my eyes were drawn, of their own volition, to the hairy triangle beneath his washboard stomach, and the fleshy appendage that dangled there.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Soft, at least, it didn't look very intimidating.

My sinful little puki betrayed me again, and started leaking fluid down my thighs.

"Your first test, girl!" the greek god before me said, "Kneel here, and suck me off! I don't want to feel any teeth, and when I'm fully engorged, I want your lips locked firmly around the base of my cock, and your nose in my pubic hair! Is that clear?"

I started to nod again, but remembered the strap, and said "Yes, Sir!"

Why was my puki so wet? I was trembling with anxiety, but my sex was positively dripping!

I had seen pictures of male sex organs before, but had never been this close to one. Mr. Jenkins must have showered before bringing me here because as I knelt before him, he smelled faintly of soap.

I gingerly lifted the floppy tube of flesh. It had a soft, smooth texture despite the wrinkles in its skin, and was warm to the touch. The darker meat of the head poked shyly out of a thick turtle-neck fold of skin. I felt it start to firm up in my hand.

Tentatively, still shaking, I placed my dry lips upon that purple plum, and tasted it with the tip of my tongue. Emboldened by its warm softness and lack of taste, I engulfed the head within my mouth, feeling it start to swell and harden.

"Teeth!" Mr. Jenkins said sharply, and a vertical line of acid etched itself into my back, to the accompaniment of a loud smacking sound.

I went rigid under the strap and quickly wrapped my lips over my teeth, sobbing from the agony on my back, and the further betrayal of my puki!

Careful not to let my teeth touch the sensitive flesh, I struggled to suck it further into my mouth. The semi-soft organ folded and compresssed and I congratulated myself on getting my lips to the base of his shaft, as his curly, clean-scented pubic hair tickled my nose.