"Good. Now remove these.", he asked, pulling on her pantyhose. He released his hand from her shoulder and Lucy immediately obeyed. In a frenetic compliance, she untied the thin laces of her white leather sneakers, removing them, and slid the destroyed nylon against her bare leg. She didn't dare to look at him, pulling down on her skirt.

 

"My sluts never wear pantyhose, is that clear?"

 

She nodded.

 

"You won't wear flat shoes either. I want you tomorrow morning at 7:00AM sharp in this office, dressed appropriately, or this little list will go to anyone you know. Is that clear?"

 

She nodded again, her chest tightening thinking about what would her parents think if they saw the titles.

 

"Where would you be tomorrow at 7:00AM?

-In... In your office.

-Wearing what kind of shoes?

-H-high heeled shoes.

-Good. Now go away. Unless you want me to help you deal with the wetness between your legs?"

 

She certainly didn't want that so she fixed her appearance quickly and scuttled away, leaving the ripped pantyhose discarded in the bin.

 

Just like when she had entered, nobody was outside his office, the admin staff had already left. There was little chance anybody could have heard her. Maybe she had just imagined the shadow on the other side of the window.

 

She walked out of the school and took a bus home in a daze, her bare legs moving on autopilot. Her thoughts were spiraling, trying over and over to process what had just happened and failing. Still, during the short bus ride she managed to take out her phone and googled her first name and her initial, as well as some titles she remembered. It was hard to check porn sites on the bus, so she just had to trust what Google was showing her, not daring to click any link. The website listing her photo shoots didn't seem to appear anywhere.

 

---

 

Sarah immediately noticed something wasn't right when Lucy returned.

 

"What's going on Lucy?", she asked, visibly worried. She was a good actress: she had been the architect of what had happened. Professor Kessler, who was a particularly perverted client of her blonde escort friend, had received an anonymous tip about Lucy's secrets from her.

It was another wild variable in Sarah's plan, but the leverage the teacher had on Lucy was so strong she couldn't just ignore it. On one hand, he had the stick: he now knew about her perverted activities and could release the info. On the other hand was the carrot, the good grades Lucy needed to succeed at school. And best of all, Sarah kept her hands clean, she had never even met this Kessler guy.

 

Lucy sat on the couch, trembling. "My pictures.... they have my name on it."

She started to cry softly, her shoulders shaking up and down. The pictures were a real problem, but that was not why she looked so distressed.

She looked at Sarah with teary eyes, the words stuck in her throat.

 

"It's ok Lucy." She sat next to her and put a hand on her bare thigh." Let me call the studio. They'll change it."

Lucy nodded and regained her composure. Ok. This could be resolved and forgotten. Yes it would still be her face on the pictures but at least not so easy to find.

 

"They'll use a fake name. Do you have any preference?"

 

She shook her head no. She just wanted her name gone.

 

And she sobbed, louder this time, the couch shaking under her distress.

 

"Hey. Hey. I'll take care of it. You knew the picture would be out someday."

 

She knew damn well, but she imagined them locked behind a paywall or lost among the billions of internet pictures. She never suspected she would be identified that fast.

 

"I'll call Delfynn now." Sarah said, getting up.

"It's not only that..." Lucy started to explain. It was hard to say what she was going to say. Above all, she didn't want Sarah to leave her side. She wanted to keep her comforting presence next to her.

 

 

"What is it?"

 

Lucy fidgeted in her seat, breathing in short bursts.

 

"I... I think I was raped.", she said flatly, the realization sinking in as the words exited her mouth.

 

Sarah was stunned. It took a few seconds for her to process what her tenant was saying. Slowly, rage flushed her face. Rage against the perpetrator, rage against herself for having enabled it. This stupid teacher had all the tools to manipulate Lucy offered to him on a silver platter and decided to simply physically force her instead? What an idiot. She hadn't expected that at all. It didn't match at all what her friend had told her about professor Kessler, how he was a subtle, refined pervert, more interested in mental manipulation than being physical.

She asked Lucy for more details but didn't get any. She would have to ask her friend to find out what this idiot, neanderthalic teacher exactly did.

Right at that moment, she thought her revenge was getting totally out of hand. The teacher's action repulsed her so much she almost made the decision to stop her whole crusade against Lucy there.

 

Lucy was exhausted. Not wanting to talk any more with Sarah about what had happened, she went straight to bed without even eating diner. Lying there, she texted Leena, who called her back immediately. Lucy had to go through what happened again: her first name and her initial on the site, the assault. While talking, she felt she was miles away. Even after hanging up, her mind was still racing in the background.

How did professor Kessler find out? One explanation was that he was a subscriber on this porn site, and recognized her picture and her name.

It was also possible that someone tipped him. This idea was floating confusingly in her head, by some instinct, but she dismissed it. The genie was already out of the bottle anyway.

 

Her more pressing concern was how to get rid of the creep. Step by step, she attempted to put together a plan to fire her Corporate Finance teacher.

But she quickly realized she didn't have any proof. Who would the school administration believe? The lazy, under-dressed student that posed nude or the tenured professor? She already knew the answer.

 

An unknown number suddenly sent her a view-once video. She almost dismissed it as spam but decided to click on it.

 

It showed the office she had been in a few hours ago, from a low angle that just skimmed the surface of the cluttered desk.

 

For a moment, she was ecstatic. There it was! Her proof! Someone that wanted to help her just sent her the evidence!

 

But the enthusiasm faded fast. It looked bad. It looked very bad for her.

It showed her going behind the desk, then bending on it. She knew she was reaching for the teacher's phone but it didn't appear that way on the camera. Random foreground objects were obscuring what she was really doing.

 

There was a cut. The next moment, she was fully bent over the desk and some movement could be seen behind her. But it was cut off, the video had been zoomed in and re-framed to show only her face. She knew it was her teacher. He could be heard asking, like she remembered,  "are you ready?" and she clearly answered "yes".

It left her perplexed. Was it really a rape? But there hadn't been any penetration. A sexual assault, then? But, still, she did say "yes".

 

This recording was another tool the teacher could use against her. It could easily be interpreted as her seducing her teacher and consenting to everything. Also, it was set in his office but he never clearly appeared in the video. He could argue she sneaked in with another student.

 

The video cut again. Now, it was showing her answering that she was a slut, that she wanted to be his slut.

 

Lucy was holding the phone with one hand, captivated by the sight of herself being dominated on the screen. She almost could feel the hand on her back again, the wood pressing hard against her torso. Her other hand moved down, reaching between her legs, feeling the wetness of her panties. She hated herself for it. Her hand had moved before she could stop it, as if her body remembered something her mind refused to accept. On screen, she screamed and screamed again. In her bed, she touched her pussy rhythmically, enthralled by her total submission as the speakers were playing the part where she cried yes again and again.

 

Then the file vanished.

 

It frustrated her. She wanted to see the video again, partly for checking what was exploitable against her teacher (nothing) but mostly for satisfying the growing desire that burned in her pussy. She found sleep, her hand between her legs and the phone resting on her chest.

 

 

The following morning, Sarah was woken up by her tenant as she was getting ready to go to school. The sun wasn't out yet.

 

"Lucy...? What are you doing up so early?"

 

Her tenant simply shrugged.

 

Sarah said: "I managed to reach Delfynn last night. The studio will contact the distributor to modify your name."

"Ah... thanks Sarah." Lucy was numb, her voice lifeless.

 

"Are you going to school?", Sarah asked. Lucy nodded.

 

"Are you sure you should?", probed Sarah further with genuine concern. Lucy looked at her with empty eyes.

"Yes.

-What about the... Thing you told me about Yesterday?

-I was wrong. Nothing happened.

-Clearly... Not nothing."

 

She was dressed in the same skirt and the same top as yesterday. But what Sarah found weird was that Lucy was putting on 4-inch sparkly heels. They were cheap, clunky clubbing shoes, that had been judged slutty enough to escape the purge. It was very out of character, especially with bare legs and Sarah wondered if she had misjudged the teacher. She deduced he was behind her tenant's strange morning behavior.

She wondered if she was witnessing her control over Lucy escaping to someone else. But her attitude looked less like someone going to school and more like someone ready to jump from a bridge. As much as Sarah despised the girl, she certainly didn't want that.

 

"At least let me drive you to school, you can't walk with these in the street.", Sarah offered.

"It's ok, I already asked Leena last night."

 

Sarah imagined this was how a mother felt, watching her child pull away to be independent.

 

She watched Lucy totter under the street lights to Leena's car waiting outside and immediately went to check the HD cameras recordings of her room, trying to make sense of what was happening to her. She saw Lucy masturbating to a short video on her phone. She had already spied on Lucy watching porn on her phone but that was different. She turned the volume up and replayed the moment, from different cameras.

The sound was barely audible except on one single camera, the closest to Lucy's bed. Hearing the loud "yes" answering the muffled questions, Sarah put two and two together: the teacher DID had his way with Lucy and was still blackmailing her. That was exactly how she would have done it herself. With the student screaming loudly "yes", he was covering himself (which was why Lucy now said it wasn't rape) and also creating new material to blackmail her further.

 

---

 

Leena's small car was cluttered with junk. A cheap perfume failed to mask the stale smell of pot.

 

"Wait a minute, let me just clear this stuff off!", Leena said, tossing a tangled pair of fishnets, a makeup case, and empty energy drink cans from the passenger seat.

Lucy nodded and sank silently into the cleared seat. Then, without warning, she burst into tears, overwhelmed with relief at seeing her friend. She was so grateful Leena had come to help her, before dawn (the girl usually didn't wake up until noon), at such short notice. They parked somewhere to talk.

 

"What are you going to do?

-I don't have a choice. I'm supposed to meet him in 30 minutes."

Her tone was cold, calculating, with a hint of desperation.

 

"Let's go report him. At least, they'll launch an investigation, he would get suspended.

-You didn't see the video. It's bad.

-It's also bad for him!", protested Leena.

 

"No. It never shows his face.

-It's his office, of course it's him! If he uses the video to try to prove you consented, it also gets him involved.

-The video could be of me and another student.

-Bullshit! He would get suspended and investigated at least."

 

The last words lingered in the car, then Lucy looked at the Asian girl with a dark glint in her eyes.

 

"And what exactly do I gain from that?"

 

Leena was startled. She never saw Lucy like that, so rational, so resolute. And curiously, it seemed like this resolve was somehow directed against her, not against the blackmailer.

But the logic itself surprised her. That was what she often heard from performers on set, from escorts, the voice of a girl learning to price herself, compromising on her values, negotiating her own degradation and abuse. Maybe Lucy already had been scarred by the sex industry further than she thought.

 

"I mean... he's blackmailing you Lucy!"

 

That was true, thought Lucy, but he could also make her pass her exams. He was teaching two courses so if he boosted her grades enough at least for the first semester, that could save her. She could still report him after, although she still wasn't convinced her word would stand against his.

 

She noticed the clock on the dashboard flip to 6:35. A wave of cold desperation crept through her body as the meeting approached. She didn't want to argue with Leena. In fact, there was another reason she had asked the girl to pick her up in the first place.

"I need to go..." she said, her confidence fading as her voice cracked. It was easy to play the girl in control in front of Leena, but suddenly a lot harder to physically open the door, get out of the car and walk into that place back again.

 

"Say...", she asked shyly, "Do you have something... to take the edge off?"

 

Leena eyes widened. That was the icing on the cake. She did have something on her, a white tablet she planned to consume later, but she pushed back, partly because she thought facing a guy high was a really bad idea, partly because the stuff was expensive.

 

"Do you really think that's a good idea?

-Please Leena...", Lucy pleaded, eyes begging.

 

This was another type of voice she was used to hearing, the voice of an addict. But wasn't it what she wanted for Lucy? Something dark and twisted lighted up inside her. She could already see the same desperate eyes, only the eyes, looking at her with desperation from below, her mouth busy eating her snatch.

 

"Ok. I have something."

She reached for it.

"It's less strong than what you had before but should help you relax."

 

Lucy swallowed the product gratefully. "Thanks Leena."

 

Leena drove her to the school as the drug slowly dissolved in her body. She could feel her nerves calming down. She got out of the car, unsteady on her towering heels, and watched Leena drive off to park further up, where she'd wait for Lucy's text.

 

The rising sun was casting a weak warmth directly onto her skin, beneath a miniskirt that stopped well short of mid-thigh, leaving the rest of her legs exposed.

She hurried to the school, her stomach tightening with each step, her cheap heels clacking hard against the concrete, the impact jarring straight through her feet.

She walked as fast as she could across the deserted campus toward the faculty office. Those shoes were magnifying the distances, making her school ground seem a lot larger, as the sound of the cheap plastic echoed frantically against the buildings. Slowly, she felt calmer, lighter on her feet, as if she was walking on clouds.

Reaching the department entrance, she dug into her small bag to retrieve her keycard. The school offered 24/7 access, usually for group projects, cramming for exams or late-night printing.

 

The door opened. No sound inside, too early for students or faculty staff. She moved forward, each step on the tiles sounding like a countdown she couldn't stop. She would be alone in his office once more, but if she waited long enough, people would arrive to work. If she could stall Kessler for an hour and scream, someone would hear her for sure. So maybe she just had to get in his office, wait an hour and scream rape. No, she thought. That was a stupid plan, because, obviously, he had cameras in his office.

 

She looked at her phone. Leena had sent her a string of encouraging emojis. 7:00. She knocked.

 

"Come in."

 

The drug was working hard to sooth her until now, yet she couldn't repress a shiver of rage when seeing him again. She closed the door behind her and made a few steps inside.

 

He examined her with his piercing blue eyes as she stood there, vulnerable, her slender frame elongated by the heels.

 

"Acceptable. A significant improvement," he assessed.

 

She felt herself blush. She wanted to protest, to say a lot of things, to defend herself, but she didn't have the strength.

 

"Turn around", he ordered.

 

She complied, showing her backside.

 

"Show me what's under this."

 

Here it was. The dirty, raw, sexualization. She felt like an object, a hooker he just had gotten delivered to his office. She reached for the hem of her skirt and pulled up, exposing white panties.

 

"That won't do. Turn toward me." She pivoted, showing the front of her underwear, as he got up his chair and walked forward, not glancing down even for an instant, as if he was totally uninterested in what she had to offer. He was towering over her, even with her wearing high heels. His hands went to her waist and he suddenly pulled the skirt back on her. The physical contact wasn't sexual, it was the opposite of that, he was fixing her appearance. She almost thanked him.

 

"Seems like we have some work to do together before I can give you an A," he stated.

Lucy nodded, even though she didn't get what he meant.

 

"We'll do some shopping together. Tonight, I'll pick you at 8PM at the corner in front of the mall. Is that clear?"

 

"Yes.", she said blankly.

 

"At what time will you be at the corner?"

 

"8PM."

 

"Good girl. You can go now. Don't let me keep you from your classes"

 

Lucy left his office puzzled. She retraced her steps back through the silent building and out into the morning air.

 

She immediately texted Leena everything was fine and told her she could go. The mall excursion planned was weird but at least it was a public place.

Students were slowly arriving on campus. She tottered toward the library, planning to hide until it was time for her first class. Going there, she ignored boys looking with lust at her slender naked legs. Because that was exactly what they were: boys. And she was above that now.

 

She spent her day wrapped in a glow of superiority. She had a special, secret relation with a teacher everybody looked up to. She still hated him, yet she couldn't deny the thrill of feeling chosen, shielded by his status. It made her feel less ashamed of her outfit. Her ridiculous, sparkly heels, that made her look as though she had gotten lost on her way to a nightclub, had won his approval.

 

---

 

Twenty minutes past the appointed time, the sun was setting. Lucy was still waiting on the corner. She felt fragile dressed like that. Passing cars illuminated her pale bare legs as if they were sculpted from glowing porcelain. The fearful anticipation had given way to boredom and anger. When would he arrive?! She kept shifting her weight from one foot to another because they were screaming in pain. She almost couldn't feel her toes.

When his car pulled over and the passenger door opened, she didn't let herself think. She quickly got in, her miniskirt too short to prevent her for flashing the street a glimpse of her panties, and slid in the comfortable leather seat. The car was immaculate, its only character a faint smell of cologne and cigarettes. 

 

She immediately bent down to massage her throbbing feet. They had bothering her all day. When she moved back up, she noticed he had turned toward the expressway.

 

Worried, she asked in a small voice: 

"Uh... Aren't we going to the mall?"

 

She had expected him to just drive the few hundred meters that separated the campus from the shopping center.

 

"It's closing. Beside, I'm not crazy enough to bring a student of mine to the mall right next to my school."

 

His icy blue eyes were ogling at her pale legs. Out of the habit, they were wide open, touching the sides, completely exposing her white panties. Ashamed, she closed them.

 

"Keep them open.", he said. "Don't forget what you are."

 

Her knees separated again. What I am. He's thinking I'm a slut, she thought. She hated him. She hated him. She hated him. She hated him like she never had hated anyone before. She hated him with a devouring passion. She wanted to bite him, kick him, murder him, smash his expressionless face into the dashboard. An intrusive thought crossed her mind, a murdering thought about reaching for the wheel and swaying the car against another one. But she just stayed seated here, legs spread for his viewing pleasure. And he wasn't even looking.

 

She tentatively took her phone out of her bag. He didn't react, confident in his power over her. She sent a quick text to Leena and Sarah and shared her location with them.

 

"u want us to come?", asked Sarah.

"YES", she typed urgently, in all caps.

 

She starting filming discreetly, barely angling her phone at her tormentor. A teacher giving a female student a ride wasn't incriminating on its own, but it could carry weight if she gathered enough evidence against him.

 

"Recording me?", he suddenly asked flatly, his words startling her nonetheless. "Turn that off."

 

Hands shaking, she closed the camera app, and wondered if he also meant her phone. She decided to keep it on, because her friends were tracking her location. She suddenly couldn't understand what she wanted to achieve.

 

"Don't worry", he added. "We're just going shopping. I won't make you do anything you wouldn't want to do."

 

Yeah, except force me to wear heels, show my underwear or keep my legs open, she thought. But she stayed silent.

 

The car swerved into another mall's driveway and he parked close to a shoe store.

He got out of the car and walked to her side to offer his hand to get out. It was welcomed, because the seat was low and she would have trouble getting out wearing heels. But she hated it.

Still, she took his hand and got out of the car, one leg outside and one leg inside for a brief moment, her legs open for all to see. Pain and needles instantly returning to her lower extremities when she pulled up of the car. She followed him to the shoe store, still holding onto him.

 

It was an upscale store. The vendor recognized him, offered Lucy to sit and brought her a selection of clubbing shoes similar in spirit to her shiny sandals.

She picked one up, with sturdy 4 inch block heel compensated by 1.5 inch platform. The black leather was cleverly crafted to look like thick, interwoven strands twisting into a heavy central knot. It was meticulously embossed, mimicking minuscule scales that made the dark material glitter under the boutique lights. A thick, adjustable ankle strap in T-shape secured the shoes. They were also sandals, but screamed quality. She looked at her teacher, that urged her to try with only a look.

She removed her own sparkly spikes, that suddenly looked very cheap, and put them on. She was as tall, but a lot more comfortable, the platform reducing the foot's incline.

She looked at the open boxes around here. All other product seemed of similar quality.

 

"Choose one pair.", Kessler simply said.

 

Studying his reactions, she slowly removed the high end sandals and picked another.

This new shoes were adorned with an intricate web of straps that twined together like delicate tree roots. As she held it, the supple leather exuded a rich, intoxicating scent. Sliding her feet in, she realized they were higher, more sophisticated but less comfortable. Maybe something for someone older to wear. She wasn't there yet.

Another pair had the straps climbing high, circling her calves and making her look like some ancient amazon.

Then, black satin sandals, decorated with rows of rhinestone.

 

She tried one after another, dazed by the sudden turn of events.

 

She regretted not wearing her jean shorts today. Each time she tried a new pair, each time she needed to sit or squat, she was at risk of exposing her panties. As the fatigue was setting in, she failed to conceal her modesty more and more. But the vendor was a professional who knew when not to look and her teacher didn't seem especially interested either.

 

Still, she wondered what was the reason he'd brought her here. And did he intend to pay? Or would he force her into buying shoes that cost as much as her rent? Or was he some kind of fetishist, just watching, getting a kick out of her trying them on?

 

In a defiant gesture, she picked the fist pair, because it was the most comfortable, even though she was sure it wasn't Kessler's preference. She made the selection for herself, not for him.

 

Her teacher noticed, but let it slide. That was good enough for now. The important thing, he thought, was that she picked something.

 

Next, he wanted her to pick between slippers, to wear indoor. The choice was limited and she ended with open-toe black wedge slides. They were the less conspicuous of the lot, even though there was some kind of fake fur dangling on the top.

 

She was starting to get tired. They had been the only clients in the store.

 

However, her eyes couldn't help but sparkle when the last bunch arrived. Elegant, luxurious, towering stilettos, the kind she often fantasized she would wear to command presence when she would be a powerful businesswoman.

 

Their price ranged from a thousand to two thousand dollars. She toyed with the idea of selecting the most expensive one, on purpose, but she decided to go with the pair she would like the most. She wasn't sure who was paying for all of that.

One in particular had captured her senses. She grabbed the vertiginous piece and could immediately appreciate its quality. It possessed a crisp, precise structure and felt instantly premium to the touch. The high-gloss leather was flawlessly sculpted, bordered by a line of immaculate, microscopic stitches. The flawless, mirror-like black surface caught the light with every shift of her hand, contrasting sharply with the soft, nude leather lining inside. Its dramatic, gravity-defying arch felt almost weightless in her hands, yet structurally unyielding.

She slipped her feet into the buttered interior and fell forward, saved at the last moment by grabbing her teacher. She stood tall, the balls of her feet positioned at their ideal place, perfectly balanced. As long as she didn't try to walk, they felt perfect.

 

The total was over two thousands dollars. Never had a man spent so much on her.

 

"We are short on time. Let's go.", he said as they both went back into the car.

 

Short on time for what, wondered Lucy. She looking around, scanning for Sarah's or Leena's car. Nothing. She didn't dare to get her phone out.

 

The ride was short, in less than 5 minutes they reached another store, a lingerie store.

 

"Good evening Mr Kessler", said the shopkeeper, an attractive woman in her late forties.

 

"Good evening. I hate to bother you so late.", he replied.

 

"Oh, you'd never bother me. You are always welcome.", she said, clearly flirting with him.

 

Lucy was ushered inside a dressing room and the woman asked her to get in her underwear. She chuckled when she saw her wearing padding.

At school, she didn't wear that much padding, certainly not as much as when she was going to the gym or walking with the girls. But she still got into the habit of filling her bra with a few socks.

 

The shopkeeper had her unhook the bra and set it aside. In the mirror, her nipples pointed right at her like two accusing fingers.

But she didn't have time to think, as a measuring tape was quickly looped around her flat chest.

 

"Oh, AA cup.", the woman exclaimed. Lucy wanted to protest, wanted to tell her she was an A-cup, sometimes even a B-cup, but that would have sounded ridiculous. So she stayed quiet, as the measurement continued. She received a bra to try, with matching panties she had to wear over her own. She looked at herself in the mirror and liked what she saw. The dark green lacy bra contrasted nicely with her white skin with a perfect fit, not squeezing her breasts or being too loose around it. With her blonde strands of hair and makeup, on the light side today but still expertly done, she really looked like a model. Still, she hated getting dolled up for a man like Kessler.

 

"That will be all, you can dress up again.", said the shopkeeper.

 

Lucy removed the green set and slid through the straps of her old plain cotton bra again. It should have felt familiar, but, compared to the more expensive one, it felt baggy, lifeless, and ugly.

When she got out, he was already finishing paying for a bag of lingerie. She saw it was over five hundred dollars.

 

They exited to the parking lot that was completely empty beside Kessler's car and, far away at the other end, under the glow of fluorescent lamps... Sarah's. She looked at it with excitement. Her teacher didn't miss her reaction.

 

"Get in", he said, swinging the door of his car open.

 

The shopping bag was shoved at her feet, and the three shoe boxes piled onto her lap.

Then, to her surprise, he started the engine and slowly drove toward the other vehicle, braking a good distance away. In the night, Lucy could barely make up the silhouette of her friend (or was it friends?) inside.

 

The cars were now facing from afar, as if they were getting ready for some duel.

 

Kessler broke the silence, looking straight ahead:

"From now on, I expect you to wear what I just bought you. I'll see you tomorrow at 7PM in my office. Is that clear?"

 

She nodded. But he wanted more than that.

 

"What would you wear tomorrow?

-The... what you bought me?

-Good. At what time will you come see me?

-7PM.

-Why?"

 

Why, wondered Lucy. Because he was blackmailing her? No. Something clicked. She knew what he wanted to hear. She hated that she was slowly getting him.

 

"Because I'm... your... slut.

-Good girl. Now go to your friends."

 

Sarah watched as Lucy got out of the car. It took her a few seconds of incredulous hesitation to understand what the girl was struggling to carry. Shopping bags and shoe boxes. It dawned on her: her tenant had gotten herself a sugar daddy.