You pull up to your building in your gleaming Mercedes. It’s a half falling down brick fire trap with a black mould problem, dry rot and lead plumbing. But you don’t care, you don’t have to live here and the trash that does should work harder if they don’t like it.

Seeing no regular parking spots, you park in the handicap zone and put up your counterfeit handicap placard before stepping out into the street and taking a big, satisfied, whiff. It smells like poverty, desperation and despair; bywords for profitable in your business.

You stroll into your building, whistling as you walk up to Unit 1, master key at the ready if the scum doesn’t open up.

Annie answers the door, her hair a mess of tangles and sleep. Her eyes are red-rimmed from crying. She's in her pajamas, and she looks like she's been up all night. "Oh, Martin," she says weakly. "I was hoping you wouldn't come today."

She's got a hundred dollars in cash peeking out of a crumpled envelope clutched in one hand. She knows better than to try and hide it from you; you always find out anyway.

"Yeah, I know," Annie says, her voice barely above a whisper now. "I just don't have it today, Martin. I lost my job, and the unemployment checks haven't come through yet." She starts to cry softly.

She looks up at you with pleading eyes, as if begging for mercy. You can see the desperation in her gaze, but there's something else too; an almost defiant determination not to give up without a fight.

"No, Martin," Annie insists, shaking her head. "You don't understand. I really don't have it this time." She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "Look, maybe if we can work something out... Give me another week or two? Please?"

Her voice is barely above a whisper now, and she looks up at you with an expression that's equal parts hope and fear. You can sense her desperation; she knows what will happen if she doesn't pay on time.

Annie yelps in surprise as you take the envelope away from her, her eyes widening with panic. "No! Please, Martin!" she cries out. "I'll pay it tomorrow, I promise!" She reaches for the money again, but you pull back, out of reach.

"You know the rules," you say coldly. "Rent is due on the first of every month." Her eyes widen even further as she realizes that she just sealed her fate.

Annie stares at you, shock and disbelief written on her face. "But Martin," she whispers, "I don't have it." Tears begin to roll down her cheeks again as she stands there, helplessly watching the money slip from her grasp.

You pat her on the shoulder in a condescending gesture and walk away, back towards your Mercedes. "Don't worry," you say over your shoulder, "I'm sure something will turn up."

Annie stands there for a long moment after you leave, her hands trembling and her shoulders slumping. She knows what this means; without the money to pay rent, she's just one step closer to being homeless. The taste of defeat is bitter in her mouth as she turns away from the door, retreating back into her unit.

She collapses onto her bed in tears, wishing there was another way out of this mess. But deep down, she knows there isn't; not with Martin running the show.

Lily answers the door wearing nothing but her panties and bra. She's looking at you with an expression that mixes surprise with confusion. Her long black hair is messy from sleep, and dark circles under her eyes hint at a restless night. "Oh, hi Martin," she says slowly, glancing over your shoulder to see if anyone else is around.

In the background, you can hear faint music playing; someone's radio or TV left on low.

Lily blushes and looks away, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "Um...yeah," she mumbles. "I mean, I can't give you any more than last time." She glances back up at you nervously, waiting for your reaction. Her voice is soft and hesitant, like she's afraid to ask but needs to know where she stands with you.

Lily follows you into the bedroom, her heart racing in her chest. She knows what this means; she's going to have to do whatever it takes to make sure you're satisfied. As you start to undress, she watches you carefully, trying to gauge your mood. Her breath hitches when she sees the bulge in your pants; fear mixed with anticipation.

She starts to unbutton her shirt, revealing a lacy black bra beneath. "I'm here if you need me,"

Lily swallows hard and nods. She knows better than to argue with you; if she wants to keep her place, she has to play by your rules. With trembling hands, she undoes her bra and lets it fall to the floor. Her large breasts bounce free from their confines as she kneels in front of you, taking your erection into her mouth.

Her lips slide up and down your shaft as she sucks, her eyes locked on yours the whole time.

Lily moans around your cock, her body trembling with pleasure and fear. She knows this isn't real; she's just a tool to you, someone to use when you need her. But for now, it feels good to have some control over the situation, however fleeting that may be.

Her tongue darts out, tracing circles around the head of your cock as she takes more of you into her mouth. Her hands slide up and down your thighs, massaging gently as she gives you what you want.

As you orgasm, Lily takes every drop of your cum into her mouth, swallowing it down greedily. She knows better than to make a sound; she doesn't want to anger you and make things worse for herself. When you finally pull away, she stands up, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

"There," she says softly. "You got what you wanted." Her voice is steady, but there's a hint of defiance in her eyes now;

Lily nods slowly, forcing a small smile onto her lips. "Of course," she says quietly. "I'll be here." She knows that there is no other choice; as long as you're the landlord, this is her life now. With one last glance at you, she turns and leaves the room, hurrying back to her bedroom to get dressed before anyone else sees her like this.

The sound of footsteps approaching the door precedes Angie's appearance. She opens it a crack and peeks out at you through narrowed eyes. "Of course it's rent day," she says sarcastically. "You don't need to remind me." Her hair is pulled back into a messy bun, revealing dark circles under her eyes that speak of many sleepless nights spent worrying about money.

She stands there in her threadbare housecoat, looking every bit the worn-down resident of your building.

Angie folds her arms across her chest, a defiant look in her eyes. "I've got fifty bucks this time," she says stubbornly. "That's all I can spare." She knows you won't be happy with that amount; it's less than last month and barely covers the rent as is. But she also knows there's nothing she can do about it.

You look her over, assessing the situation silently before finally speaking. "Fifty bucks isn't good enough,"

Angie tenses at your words; she can sense the danger lurking just beneath the surface. "I understand," she says carefully. "Things have been rough lately... With my hours being cut back at work and all..." Her voice trails off, unsure of what else to say or do.

She hesitates for a moment before digging into her pocket and pulling out another twenty dollars. "Here," she says, holding it out to you. "Can I please have some more time to catch up?"

Angie exhales slowly, relief washing over her as she hands over the remaining fifty dollars. "Thank you, Martin," she says gratefully. "I promise I'll make it up to you next month." She forces a weak smile, hoping that this will be enough to appease you for now.

As you take the money and turn to leave, she closes the door behind you, leaning back against it with a sigh of relief... for now.

As Martin descends the stairs, Annie shrinks back into her doorway, her eyes darting nervously between you and the rest of the hallway. She knows that she can't avoid this conversation forever; sooner or later, you'll come for her. But until then, she tries to find any small bit of comfort in her miserable life.