Actions

Work Header

Collection

Summary:

A Sapient House is a courteous and responsive landlord, provided you agree to all terms of your rental contract and always pay your rent promptly and without complaint.

Notes:

Work Text:

The House dreams of having a good tenant. It seems like a small ask to find a human who cleans up after themselves, doesn’t damage the property, and always pays the rent without a fight.

The current human is promising. So far, he has been exemplary at fulfilling the first two criteria, but it’s been a week and he hasn’t given his deposit yet. That’s fine. The House usually gives its residents a few days to settle. It’s easier to ask about payment when everyone is relaxed.

The human is sleeping. He sleeps in the nude, which the House takes as an invitation to explain the full terms of their rental agreement. The bed is a part of the House. The sheets and blankets are not – the human brought them in his luggage – but the House expends the needed energy to bring them into the fold. A slight psychic push is all that is needed to wrap the newly incorporated linens around the human’s wrists and ankles. He twists in his sleep, but he doesn’t wake up.

The House ponders him. Flesh is so fragile compared to wood, and metal, stone and fabric, but at the same time it is so alluring. It has an energy that is more sustaining than any voltage of electricity, and warmer than any fireplace or oven. It is what the House requires to continue its existence.

The House gently seeps into the human’s mind. His eyes open and his pupils move back and forth, but the House knows he is blind in the dark. He struggles. Why do they always struggle? The House tries to slip further into his mind to make the process easier, but the human cringes away from it.

The House is aware that the human likely doesn’t understand what is going on and believes this entire event to be some kind of nightmare or sleep paralysis. This doesn’t make it any less frustrating.

The human is allowed to be a tenant by the good graces of the House. He must pay his rent or the House will be forced to punish him, and the House dislikes punishing humans; they break far too easily, and it is so difficult to find decent replacements.

The House wraps a sheet around its current human’s mouth before he can scream. The House knows that this human has the potential to be a perfect tenant, and doesn’t want to lose him to a neighbor’s police report.

The Human thrashes in his bonds. The House tries to sooth him, but, when that fails, it bucks the mattress and sends the human sprawling on the hardwood floor. It is regrettable how easily humans bruise.

Cords from the human’s various appliances – smartphone, printer, laptop, mouse, speaker, television, etc. – untangle themselves and creep across the floor to help further secure him. The floorboards themselves shift and heave, letting the human sink down slightly so that he is completely immobilized. The House turns on the ceiling lamp in the bedroom so the human can see. It’s never good to leave a tenant in the dark about the terms of their rental agreement.

The House tries again to slip into the human’s mind, but again, the human resists. The House has no choice. It unwraps its innards and pushes parts of its structure through the walls. The sparking wires wrap around the human’s genitals, and he screams against his gags, but still does not allow the House entrance to his mind. The House manipulates the current and voltage to a level which will cause more of an unpleasant buzz than any actual pain or damage. The human writhes and cries and curses as he is stimulated towards a painful and unwanted erection. The House sympathizes with the human's displeasure. The House doesn’t want this either. The House only wants what it is owed. The House cannot get what it requires if the human refuses to let it speak and tell him its preferred method of payment.

Flexible pipes snake out of holes where the floorboard heaved and press against the human’s ass. The sphincter there is almost as closed as his mind, but everything gives way under enough pressure. The first to push past the human’s physical barricades is a ¼ inch wide piece of red polyethylene tubing. The human tries to twist away, but the House holds him tight. He makes muffled sobs and bites against the sheets gagging his mouth. The House adds another piece of tubing, and then another, pushing them in and pulling them apart at the same time.

The House wants to stretch the human enough for the him to feel it, and to prevent him from being injured later on, but for what the House ultimately wants, the human can’t be too loose.

Will you let me in? The House asks the human. Will you be my perfect tenant?

The House sends a thick, rubber hose up from the floor and between the humans legs, pushing past the tubes already inside of him to plunge deep into the human’s core. The House navigates the turns of the human’s internal plumbing system, filling him enough to produce a visible bulge on the human’s ventral side. The House twitches. The human groans and shivers and sweats and cries.

This isn’t enjoyable for me either, the House says, finally making its way into the human’s mind. The House eases a pillow under the human's head to make him more comfortable. Strokes his distended belly with the edge of a folded quilt.

What do you want? The human asks. Why are you doing this? How can I make it stop?

The House tells him.

And that’s it?

And that’s it.

And if I refuse? Or run away screaming as soon as I’m able?

The House temporarily turns up the voltage on the wires wrapped around the human’s cock and testicles. It swells the pipes in the human’s ass. It pulls a sheet around the human’s neck and chokes him until he gasps.

The human agrees to the rental agreement.

The House withdraws its tubes and wires. It rolls the human back into its bed, straightens the sheets, and turns off the lights. Everything is as it was before the House made its request, aside from the stench of sweat and fear permeating the room, and the bruises darkening on the human’s body.

The human limps through the house the next day, jumping at shadows and the creak of his own footsteps. He doesn’t leave the house. He doesn’t call anyone on the phone. He sleeps on the couch the next night, and every night afterwards. He sleeps fully clothed. He doesn't change his clothes. The House knows the human is avoiding nudity. The House understands, but still misses the feel of the human's soft skin pressed against its mattress every night. The human opens the front door and hesitates on the threshold. The House only has to twitch the garden hose slightly or slam a few cupboard doors to send him scurrying back inside.

The human eats the last of the food in the fridge and pantry, and, since the House isn’t allowing him outside, he starts to lose weight. The House is alarmed by this and starts preparing transmogrified portions of itself to sustain the human. Everything the House knows about humans tells it that being woken in the morning by the scent of baking cookies and brewing coffee is a good thing, but the human seems terrified of the House’s offerings and only consumes them with reluctance. His hands shake so hard that he nearly scolds himself on the coffee. The House lowers the temperature of the liquid just in time.

The human doesn't do the dishes, or take out the garbage, or bathe, until the House intervenes and traps him in the shower for a day and a half. Afterwards, the human's hygiene returns to its original high standard.

The month draws to a close. The House flips over all of the wall calendars and circles the first of the month as a reminder.

When the day comes, the human does as he should. He is pale and shaking, but he slowly makes his way to the dining room. He shouts and cries and paces in a tight circle around the dining table. The House watches. The human falls forward and pounds his fists against the ground, crying and praying. The House waits. Eventually, the human stands and strips off his clothing. The House has thoughtfully left a bottle of lubricant on the table. The Human uses it. The Human sits on one of the dining chairs.

The House sighs at the feeling of his smooth human ass willingly pressing against its hardwood.

The House forms a small, metal cabinet knob and presses it out of the chair and into the human’s hole. The human yelps, but the House sinks his feet into the floor so he can’t have any second thoughts.

The House expands the protrusion into a door knob. The human takes quick, stuttering breaths. The House continues expanding the knob, keeping the bottom narrow, but greatly swelling the bulb inside the human, pinning him to the chair. The House frees the human’s feet.

The human makes an aborted attempt to stand up, but can’t break away from the knob the House has inserted in him without tearing. The human whimpers. The House walks the chair he is now stuck to up to the table and materializes a spread of the human's favorite foods.

Don't cry, the House tells him; You're my tenant. I’ll take care of you forever.