The eviction notice is taped to her door in red letters. Three months behind, two jobs, nothing left to sell.

So when her landlord looks at her a beat too long and says "Come back Friday — we'll figure out what you're good for," Jodie already hates him for being right about what her body answers before her brain can.


Friday costs her her pride, on her knees on his office floor. The month after costs more. Sal doesn't threaten — he doesn't have to. He clears the desk, marks the rent paid, and takes her apart in every room of the apartment she owes him for, one filthy installment at a time. And Jodie walks home on shaky legs every time, doing the same math and getting the same wrong answer.

Then comes the good month. Full rent, cash in hand, counted twice — and he doesn't touch her. Just hands her a receipt and lets her find out, on the longest walk home of her life, that it stopped being about the money a long time ago.

Now she's lying about being short. Now his poker buddy watches from the armchair. Now the empty unit downstairs has a bare mattress and her name on it — and the first of the month is her favorite day.

A crude, explicit debt-and-desire erotica fest with a landlord who takes his rent in flesh and a tenant who signs up for more. Adults only. All characters 18+.