ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴡᴇ ᴅᴏ ғᴏʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 🗡 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ || ᴜɴᴄᴏɴsᴄɪᴏᴜs x ᴋᴇɪᴛʜ ʟᴏɢᴀɴ ⁽ⁿˢᶠʷ⁾

Keith Logan · Mar 13, 2025

𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠
· · ───── ⋅ ───── · ·

⠀SYNOPSIS⠀ ⠀CHARACTERS⠀ ⠀CHAPTER I⠀

Two individuals with a warped sense of love.
A long time bully of hers, she is supposed to hate him. Instead, every pain drew her closer and closer.
The name of the game is to push boundary after boundary, no matter the consequence.
Will their insanity know no end, even though somebody is bound to get hurt?

*Character sheet.

Themes: Consensual Non-Consensual, Dark Romance, Excessive Debauchery, Obsession, Frenzied & Mindless Passion, Adultery.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎𝐿𝑒𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑦 𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑠‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎𝐶𝑙𝑒𝑜 𝐴𝑙𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑒‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎𝑆𝑎𝑚𝑢𝑒𝑙 𝑊𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎
𝑅𝑒𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑜𝑛

Unconscious · Mar 14, 2025

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"You awoke feeling so profound,
bliss and devastation share hallowed ground."
‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

In the past, Cleo was next to nothing. Literally - most people looked past her; she wasn't very outgoing, only talked to those who spoke to her first, kept to herself, was a teacher's pet… and she was a prime victim for bullies. For a highschooler to admit out loud that she was bullied is basically a death sentence, but everyone knew it. Poor little freshman Cleo Alexandre, within her first week of starting high school, was bullied.

For an entire year she did everything she could to keep out of his way for as long as she possibly could - she hid away in various classrooms during lunch, slid into groups during P.E. so no one could single her out, seating herself in the back of the class at first and then the front, hoping that either one would at least make tyrannizing her a boring task. But no. Nothing she did ever worked out the way she hoped and, in fact, only made her life worse. That was her existence. At least for that first year.

Her tormentor soon departed - graduated and off to college - by the time she entered her sophomore year, and from there onward, Cleo was determined not to let anyone treat her as horribly as Leeroy Fredericks ever again. It certainly helped that the poor girl filled out significantly. With her newfound freedom via the head honcho's absence, she did everything right - extracurriculars, clubs, socializing up to and including the occasional party, studying until her nose bled - you name it. Honestly, Cleo was certain that she was picked on both because she was new blood, and because she, being so small and childish as a little freshman, was a genuinely easy target. She wasn't able to defend herself, and almost always cried because of it. Regardless of those hardships, she worked hard and graduated as Salutatorian. Second place in the entire school.

It was almost as if that first year of suffering was just a bad dream. It felt so good to walk across that stage and it felt even better when she was accepted into West Shores University. What didn't feel good was the fact that she only just got accepted. Timewise, of course. She ended up applying late and thus she couldn't choose her dorm. Well… she could… but from a regretfully limited pool. It wound up being in an… old building. A kind understatement, surely. No, absolutely.

'Renovated for accommodations' she'd been told. That both felt and looked like a lie. A two-story building constructed with orange bricks that were more recently stained into a soiled brown with a solid and heavy front door, a surprisingly white veranda overhanging said front door and shared bathrooms. Cleo was assured that it would only be herself and another student - but it looked… well… gross, for lack of a better term. Dragging her oversized baggage behind her, Cleo did, in fact, struggle to push open the doors with one hand.

Yep - Stairway in the middle of the building with something of a study room on the left and a snack zone with a student kitchen on the right. The inside certainly looked better - though it smelled like her Grandparent's house. That...faint dusty scent. It was too early for her to feel homesick - she just got there. As she dragged her luggage up the stairs, the smell faded, and she was greeted by an open hall and a separated alcove with two doors leading to both the men and women's respective shower rooms via typical white swinging door. God, she hoped the other student living there was a girl. She hated carrying her clothes with her to the bathroom.

With how few students were going to be residing there in the building, she was sure it didn't really matter if she picked a room that was different than the number on her dorm assignment papers, but she was still, after all these years, afraid of getting in trouble. Glancing down at the sheet of paper given to her by the administrative office, she turned left down the hall, glancing up once or twice - even on the left side of the hall, odd on the right. 212. Cleo gave herself a quick shake, ruffling her dark hair and letting her feet shuffle as she stopped in front of the door. Her door. Her room.

All to herself.

Barely able to hold in the squeal that nearly left her, she swept forward, twisting the browned knob and pushing the door open. It was surprisingly quiet as it swung open.

Two twin sized beds on either side of the room centered by two large paned windows, and two waist high lightwood desks, shelves atop them, at the end of both beds. All furniture was mirrored to their counterparts. set for two occupants instead of one. Not for long. Cleo grinned and kicked her suitcase to the side into the room. It wasn't as cramped as she thought, and there were no rules against rearranging the room as long as she didn't have a roommate by the time classes started in the next week. She was excited for her newfound freedom, excited to make friends, to study - maybe even party. That is… if anyone invited freshmen to their parties. Regardless, this new life was rife full of opportunities and new experiences.

She was ready for it.

‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Keith Logan · Mar 14, 2025

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"I crave the darkness in you,
for it is where I feel most alive."
‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Twenty two year old Leeroy Fredericks had gone through three full college cycles, now entering into his fourth and final that year. Through it all, he had been through ups and downs - with the latter mostly self-inflicted.

Being the only child in his family, he had been smothered and drowned with familial affection. Born with a silver spoon, his parents were quick to spoil him with the material things, often inflating his ego in the way his two highly successful parents were themselves, used to and adored busking under the limelight that was shone upon them by those beneath, whilst holding a certain disdain to the same people that propelled them - the spirit of elitism ran in the Fredericks household.

Unfortunately for many, it was hard to fault Leeroy for being the jerk that he was. The boy was blessed with an abundance of right genes - witty, humorous, extremely intelligent, good looking and possessed a mouth watering physique that didn't require a lot of work nor dieting to maintain. The only standout issue with him, was perhaps his lack of emotional quotient. To a certain significant extent, his upbringing was to be blamed. He had been brought up to believe that he was superior to many. And with that attitude, came an unparalleled degree of arrogance and self-entitlement.

Being praised and recognised for his talents became a conditioned and eventually vital norm to him. He was able to get that from his parents. Outside of his home however, people were less inclined to indulge him, simply because none of them owed it to him to be constantly feeding his ego - because, unlike his parents, friends and strangers had no good reason to do so.

As such, he found himself dissatisfied with the less than desired degrees of attention he was getting from his peers. At first, he was upset. Then it turned into resentment. His ego convinced him that people were simply jealous of him. It did not help to quell his delusion, that a sizable number of girls were happy to throw themselves at him and pander to his desires, simply because he possessed the money and access to the finer things few could afford. His 'closest' guy friends hung out with him, either because they knew he was the guy who could rent them a yacht or a villa for the weekend, or that they were one of the few that thought just like him. Birds of the same feathers, flock together. He had his share of fun with a number of messed up female counterparts of his, chasing all things superficial. But they always ended up as either shallow one night stands, if not at most, developed into superficial relationships that were built on motives, rather than anything sincere.

He did find out over time, that in order to fill that void of subpar relationship and emotional satisfaction that was lacking in his social life, he could do so by putting himself on the pedestal above his peers. He turned to bullying. It made him feel powerful, and in control of something that for the longest time, he could simply not grasp nor understood why people weren't showing him the same sort of adoration that his parents had did to him for his entire life.

Individuals like Cleo turned out to be very satisfying preys for him, because they did not know how to stand up for themselves. He found it highly amusing that he was able to draw the strongest of reactions out of Cleo and her likes, at the same time, do not have the courage nor strength to stand up or retaliate against him. They were literal living punching bags. Sadistic as it might sound, Leeroy found pleasure in bringing his victims to tears. Those cries brought about comforting respite to the hurt and damaged soul in him, that had been painfully yearning for unrequited approval from the people around him for the longest time. Years of social ostracising had taken a considerable psychological toll on him.

His inability to find himself a group of people genuine nor likeminded enough to share a student accommodation with him during his final year, summed up his tragic state of affair.

Leeroy was resigned and somewhat numbed to the idea that he was going to be living in his corridor alone, a corridor that belonged to a building of derelict state. Students often avoided that accommodation like plague.

That thought was short lived. The following day, just right before the beginning of fresher's week, he heard the sounds of footsteps thudding, intermixed with wheels dragging against the parquet floor along the corridor. Immediately, his attention peaked and steered towards the source of the commotion.

A social prospect within such close proximity to him for the rest of the year sounded like figurative cocaine. Naturally, his curiosity had him halting his mindless doom scrolling of his social media, gave him the impetus to get up to his feet to exit his room in time to greet this new arrival, whoever he or she might be.

When he stepped out of his room, 213, he saw the leg frame of what was unmistakably, a girl, entering into her room, which was just right next to his. He quietly threaded his way over to her door, which was still left wide open, then stood by her doorway and looked in.

His jaw actually dropped.

The new arrival? Her face was all too familiar despite not having seen her in years. She certainly looked more refined and blossomed since the last time he saw her. Her poise seemed more confident as well. Yet, he could still recognise a certain frailty and vulnerability through her demureness.

She was none other than Cleo Alexandre.

It took a moment for Leeroy to register the wild coincidence, that it was reality, before he found himself able to suppress his initial shock and spoke.

"Oh. My. Lord."

"What are the chances. Cleo Fucking Alexandre." Almost instantly, a grin emerged from his face. He nimbly knocked the door to her room shut with the back of his heel, then walked over to her supposed study desk, hopped on it, and settled by the edge with his feet slightly lifted from the ground, dangling in the air.

"Girl, I missed you."
"We have got a lot to catch up on."
"Look at you knowing how to doll yourself up better now. Guess your pet name scarecrow is no longer relevant." Leeroy referred to the days he used to call her out for her frazzled hair.

‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Unconscious · Mar 16, 2025

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"You awoke feeling so profound,
bliss and devastation share hallowed ground."
‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

"Oh. My. Lord."

Yanked out of her delighted little daydream of how she was going to decorate the dorm; the beds to be moved together in the center of the room, desks together to make an “L” shape for her laptop and sound software, maybe some paintings or posters, an adjustable clothing rack with shelves… she was going to be living there for at least a full year, so she’d have to make it as close to home as possible. But…Cleo’s reverie was broken by an all-too-familiar voice and the sound of her door banging shut. The one voice that, for the longest time, tormented the poor girl even in her sleep. She whipped around, a shock of fear skipping over her heart and sputtering down into her stomach, heating her body and suddenly sending her heartbeat into overdrive. It felt like her fingertips were vibrating with the adrenaline coursing through her.

"What are the chances. Cleo Fucking Alexandre."
"Girl, I missed you."

That once inexorable grin that split her features evaporated when her gaze firmly locked on the very figure haunting her room - her desk - that she never thought she’d see again. Eyes wide for a split moment, they soon narrowed and a scowl curled her lips downward into a frown. "We have got a lot to catch up on." and then "Look at you knowing how to doll yourself up better now. Guess your pet name scarecrow is no longer relevant."

A pet name, he called it.

The initial wave of learned fear that very nearly made her nauseous had flipped, blooming harshly into hostility and indignation with his words. The worst year of her life was replaying vividly in her mind’s eye; hiding in the bathroom to get away from the constant verbal abuse from those little mutts of his that were always in the wait, barking at her heels; ducking her head whenever she passed in the hallway in an attempt to keep anyone from noticing her; begging the school nurse to let her eat lunch in the infirmary; and the worst - lying to her grandparents, her only guardians, in an attempt to stay home from school. Cleo hadn’t had to hide from anyone anymore when he left, nor did she try, and by everything holy, she wasn’t going to do that again. She was sick of it. All of the work she put in to become more confident in herself was not going to go down the drain.

Not if she could help it.

“Leeroy,” She started, arms crossing as her head tilted to the side. “Can’t say I missed you. You’re still as much of an asshole as always. I’m surprised you didn’t get arrested for harassment by now.” Cleo stomped towards the door, intent on opening it and promptly kicking him out. “Because the Lord knows you didn’t change from the stuck-up little jerk you were in high school.” Her hand closed around the doorknob, and she pulled it open in a single swift motion, standing to the side and sending an amber glare at Leeroy as she motioned with her free hand for him to leave. Even just being a rooms distance from him was making her chest itch with anxiety. “Now kindly fuck off. If you want to talk to me, you can do it outside of my room. My room. Get out.”

She ignored, as best she could, the scarecrow comment. That wasn’t something that really hurt her, but it followed her until his friends graduated as well. At least, until her reputation cleared. Eventually they had gone from bullying, to flirting, and she had to admit… it made her feel good, at least having that bit of power over them.

She was pretty.

That much Cleo couldn’t deny, and she was stylish in a simple way. Never too much skin, always color coordinated, shades complimenting her skin tone, and just a touch of makeup. That much was necessary to prevent…mishaps.

Cleo waited for him to leave, gaze firmly planted on his form and her once free hand shoved into her cardigan pocket, clutching the phone within in a death grip. She was obviously on edge, clearly uncomfortable, angry, nervous - but he would have to try hard to get her to cry. It wouldn’t be as easy as in the past; she wasn’t ready to fight back, but she was going to if she had to.

Gone were the days of picking gum out of her hair, of being called scarecrow because of the damage it did, trailing after someone like a little pet, of hiding herself away.

“Well? Go.”

‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Keith Logan · Mar 17, 2025

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"I crave the darkness in you,
for it is where I feel most alive."
‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

"Leeroy,"
"Can't say I missed you. You're still as much of an asshole as always. I'm surprised you didn't get arrested for harassment by now."

The lad cocked his head slightly to the side, only indulging her with no more than a soft lob-sided grin forming to the left side of his lips. His attention was definitely undivided on her however, with the way in which his body unconsciously leaned in towards her direction like a flower drawn to the sun. He watched in amusement at the way she trampled her way across the room just to get to her main door. Granted, it was not much of an effort. Still, the trouble that she was willing to put herself through just to fend him off, brought that sense of delightful cheap thrills.

"Because the Lord knows you didn't change from the stuck-up little jerk you were in high school."

"Spoken like the true church going girl that you are."
"Have you ever actually thought for one second, that perhaps this is God's way of testing your resolve to the faith, of forgiveness? Or maybe you had been a bad girl, and this is your penance."

Leeroy rebutted ever so calm and composedly. Historically, the lad had proven himself to be quick witted, capable of conjuring some of the wildest ideas on the spot, much of them resulted in despair for Cleo in the past.

"Now kindly fuck off. If you want to talk to me, you can do it outside of my room. My room. Get out."

The young lad could sense an obvious difference between the Cleo that was stood in front of him, as opposed to the high school version of herself. She was fiery - much more aggressive. And she was stoking the flame in him like never before. As surprised with the change as he was, he maintained nonchalance. Leeroy walked over to where Cleo was standing.

"Well? Go."

When he was within touching distance however, instead of walking out of the door, he knocked it back shut with a dexterous bump of his elbow, to send the wooden frame back in place.

The very next moment, his over towering figure pushed against her front. In one single shove, her back was send crashing against the wall behind her. Leeroy closed in the distance between them. His body, so painfully close to hers, but not an inch of his form touched her in the follow up, except for the sporadic grazing of his fabric against her skin.

There was a distinctive musk that immediately overwhelmed her nostrils. He smelt earthy, and his masculinity manifested in the intensity of his dizzying pheromonic release. It smelt of clean sweat, and uniquely Leeroy. It was a scent that she might have even been familiar with all those years, whether she realised that at a conscious level or not.

"Your mouth has gotten really foul over the years, hasn't it?"
"Perhaps you need a kind reminder, a crash course, to the consequences that follow ill-discipline."
"And you're clearly wayward right now."

Leeroy paused, before he balled both his hands into tight fists, slamming them against the hollow walls on each side of her ears. The loudness of the thuds, transiently deafening, as they pounded into her ear drums. Just like that, two blunt indents with minor cracks were formed on the parts of the wall that his fists landed upon. The young man did not hold back. And those new permanent damage marks on her wall would go on to serve as a constant reminder of the savagery her tormentor was capable of.

"I don't care if this is your room."
"If I ever feel like walking in at anytime of the day, I will do so."
"You can try to complain to any authority."
"But you should know better - that one way or another, I'll haunt you doubly - no, triply - till the end of time."
"If you bring me down, I'll make it my life's goal to drag you down to hell with me."

It wasn't an empty threat. Leeroy did haunt her like a mindless hound whenever he got enraged. Years back, he had shown that he had been an exquisite manipulator of people, had his way of getting into their minds. The last time she tried to get the school involved and got him a restraining order along with a rehabilitating stint at a Boy's town, Leeroy had managed to pull in strangers to act on his behalf, harassing her from the shadows, through indirect means. She could never quite prove that those strangers were down to Leeroy's doing. He made it his objective to tire her out emotionally, even when his physical presence was absent.

"I reckon, your life will be so much easier, if you would just comply, and learn to think before you talk back at me from this moment on."
"You're a smart girl, Cleo. I hope on your behalf, you know what's best for you."

"Now, to put my lesson into practise. Would you kindly step out of your underwear, and hand it over to me?" Leeroy paused. There was a moment of tensed silence, before he continued.

"If you need further motivation, I'll make you a fair proposition. I promise to leave your room, and leave you unscathed for the day, if you respect my most recent instruction." It was a peculiar request, as Leeroy for all that he was, had always proved that he was a man of his words - he always followed through with his threats.

‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Unconscious · Mar 18, 2025

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"You awoke feeling so profound,
bliss and devastation share hallowed ground."
‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Every bit of Leeroy’s demeanor infuriated her where it used to terrify - the cock of his head, the smile, the leaning. Hell, particularly how he watched her like a well-fed cat watched a mouse stuck in a trap; she was nothing but a toy returned from the Lost and Found. It brought heat into her chest, a starburst of anger making her breath tighten. It certainly helped when she tuned him out, though: everything he said to her before she’d pulled the door open had gone in one ear and out the other, but... she was too focused on getting him to leave.

Cleo had forgotten what to expect. What dangers lurked behind that deceptively handsome face. So, she made a mistake.

It was definitely a monumental mistake on her part to expect any modicum of decency from him, too, but Cleo didn’t have enough time to regret it. One moment she was glaring at him as he slid away from her desk to make his way toward the door, and the next she was against the wall, back thumping against it hard enough to knock the breath out of her and forcing out something akin to a yelp along with it.

If she’d had anything left in her lungs, the once furious young woman would have let the rest of it out the moment that harshly fiery bubble within her burst into fear. His immediate proximity had her unconsciously pressing herself into the wall even more, as if willing it to swallow her whole.

All of what Leeroy was, and had been, completely eclipsed her senses; Cleo could only tip her head back, unable to look away from him as her gaze affixed to his, clicking into place with the rest of her boxed in by his chest and an equally as alarming rush of his scent. The horror he once made her live in - the feeling she had willed herself to forget in lieu of freedom - invaded her every cell and swallowed her just as she wished the wall had.

"Your mouth has gotten really foul over the years, hasn't it?" She only swallowed, those wide eyes unblinking, and she was unable to do much more than part her lips as if to respond, even with nothing but silence let in her to greet him. "Perhaps you need a kind reminder, a crash course, to the consequences that follow ill-discipline." The tiniest, most minute shake of her head did little to dislodge the overwhelming dread he put in her. "And you're clearly wayward right now."

Not only did she forget her fear, but she made herself forget that the very person she needed that fear for could make her worst nightmares into reality. The biggest mistake she could make. It had come back to bite.

Just like that, Cleo let out a stifled and close-mouth shriek as his hands suddenly slammed against the wall by her head, flinching hard enough that she would’ve stumbled if not for the wall. Even if she dared, she couldn't move an inch, feet cemented in place. Finally, though, she could look away from his face, lowering the pinpointed gaze to center it toward his chest.

"I don't care if this is your room. If I ever feel like walking in at any time of the day, I will do so."
"You can try to complain to any authority."
"But you should know better - that one way or another, I'll haunt you doubly - no, triply - till the end of time."
"If you bring me down, I'll make it my life's goal to drag you down to hell with me."

While she knew he could - that he would - do every single thing he said he would do, his threats weren’t doing what he likely hoped it would. That fear of him didn’t melt away, but it certainly made way for the heavy rise of indignation. She wasn’t such a weak little kid anymore. And yet… Cleo couldn’t bring herself to look back up at him despite all of that.

"I reckon, your life will be so much easier, if you would just comply, and learn to think before you talk back at me from this moment on."
"You're a smart girl, Cleo. I hope on your behalf, you know what's best for you."

Yeah, whatever you fucking say.

Those words, as spiteful and as stupid as they were, would have left her, and were clearly plastered on her face. They would have escaped her lips, if his next words didn’t stun her into silence with each syllable catching behind clenched jaw.

"Now, to put my lesson into practice. Would you kindly step out of your underwear, and hand it over to me?"

He had her attention like a boomerang, first unable to look away, then unable to look back, and finally, whipping up towards his face in shock with her own eyes wide. Cleo seemed as if she were struggling to find words, floundering. And she was. Those simple words had made her brain stutter to a halt, every thought skidding and careening off a cliff somewhere in the recesses of her mind.

"If you need further motivation, I'll make you a fair proposition. I promise to leave your room, and leave you unscathed for the day, if you respect my most recent instruction."

“Wh-” The poor girl couldn’t even get the full word out, blinking hard even as she shook her head, gaze flickering back and forth between his own, his expression, and down to the solid wall of chest before her, unable to comprehend what was said to her for several long seconds. Soon enough, as if accepting her fate, she let out a hard sigh through gritted teeth. “Fucking, fine.” It was better than whatever else he would do to her if she didn’t. She hoped. And they were just panties. Albeit, her favorite pair, but alas: a necessary sacrifice was still more necessary than it was a sacrifice - at least when it came to Leeroy. She might be stupid to believe he would keep his word just as easily as he kept his threats despite the fact that he had never lied to her before even through omission, but she would be damned if she wasn’t inclined to believe every little thing that came from his mouth.

Leaning her weight against the wall with a cold and unwavering glare glued to the man threatening her, she lifted the charcoal grey skirt at her hips just enough to hook her thumbs on the side seams of her panties without flashing a peek at anything else unmentionable, and slid the only pair of carnation-pink lace panties she had down her bare legs and over her sneakers. It wasn’t a thong, but it was definitely a pair that showed some serious cheek. To mask her shame, somehow, she balled them up in her fist and shoved them hard against his chest with her right hand, the left steadying her against the wall as if it would protect her.

“Enjoy.” A solid customer service smile that didn’t reach her eyes had curled her lips before promptly falling away, struggling to keep the shaking from her voice in a bid for false courage. “Now, please,” She emphasized the plea even as her heart pounded. “Get out, Leeroy.”

Cleo still didn’t dare to move from where she was trapped with some part nestled inside of her - a part that she once wrongfully thought had diminished in size - being too afraid of what he would do if she attempted to shove past him. That angry glare, intermixed with unmistakable caution, maintained itself, though, as she was determined not to let herself completely give in to the fear that rattled her pulse.

‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Keith Logan · Mar 19, 2025

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"I crave the darkness in you,
for it is where I feel most alive."
‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Leeroy could clearly register that she has got words - and loads of them - stuck at the tip of her tongue, presumably desperate to break free from the confines of her lips, which seemed to be doing a hell of a job restraining her back. No words were spoken. But the man who had been so used to years of watching his victims physically tremor in fear, had gotten adapt at reading and interpreting even the slightest of non-verbal cues. It was through those cues in which he derived entertainment and utmost satisfaction witnessing his victims cower, and the mentalisation of the quiet screams ringing within the heads of his victims.

It was almost sheer sex. He could get aroused simply from the thought of such. And Cleo was making him aroused.

He missed the way she kept his eyes on him every millisecond, barely breaking for a blink. It was just the kind of attention that he had been craving for the longest time - focused, undivided. He missed the way that she used to shudder from his sudden aggression, and he could see that she was trying her darnest to keep her flinching as muted as possible, because ego. But he managed to break her intense gaze. It made him feel powerful, that he was able to control the agency of another being, even if it was for a mere few seconds, for it was no easy feat to be able to bend any individual into compliance, especially when her heart was defiantly unwilling.

Beyond her rebellious front however, he could begin to see through that facade of hers. In her moment of weakness, her shiver and the inability to move showed him that deep down under, there laid the old Cleo that he remembered fondly, that was locked up somewhere, waiting for him to reach out to it, to free it from the demon that was her new, reinvented confident self.

How dare she grew a spine.

When he dished out his demand of her, he soaked in the sight of her stunned, widened eyes. Leeroy thought he could never ever get tired of that look of hers. Somehow, he was fairly convinced that the girl would relent. And sure enough, she did hand over her undergarment.

"Wh-"
"Fucking, fine."

"Brilliant. Just like old times."
"Not the panties though. That's a first. But I'm glad you remember enough to know it's best you comply."

"You are... such a good girl for me, Cleo."
"As always, and ever shall be." It was a sentence, part of a greater vow, that should have rung a very familiar bell in Cleo.

"Do you still remember the pledge I made you swear by? I wonder if you still remember them, word for word." Leeroy teased with eerily sensual malice. In the meantime, he watched with focused attention, at Cleo reaching to the bands of her underwear. She didn't reveal a lot, and was quick and nimble to the manner in which she peeled down her lingerie. But it was long enough to allow him a split second view of that sumptuous child bearing hips of hers. And her flawless looking skin left much to the imagination of the possibilities that laid beyond and underneath her skirt.

"Enjoy."
"Now, please,"
"Get out, Leeroy."

Leeroy smirked. His eyes, taking the time to admire the lacy material that she had shoved onto him, after he had unrolled it. Very purposefully, he left it on blatant, taunting display point blank right in front of her face, dangling whilst he spoke. "Well well. First, your improved grooming. Now this. Looks like someone has been dressing up in hopes of serving herself up on the platter presentably when and if it ever matters. You had clearly been exploring your sexuality quite a bit since the last I saw you, hadn't you?"

"Cleo Alexandre sprucing up herself so she'd be ripe and ready for the taking when the time comes."

"Also, I think you've mistaken. I'm not taking this away from you." Leeroy paused, before he scrunched up her pink lace back into the same shape of a ball when it was first presented to him. "Not a sad pervy guy collecting some girl's panties." The next moment, he grabbed her facial cheeks on a tight V-shaped vice grip, before he stuffed her lacy undergarment into her mouth. Very conveniently, he had a translucent roll of tape in his back pocket, which he was opportunistically holding to, because he was just setting up a couple of decors in his room only an hour earlier. Four overlapping tapes were pasted over her lips to ensure that her lingerie remained snug within the confines of her mouth.

"You talk foul too much."
"Hopefully, your panties would go some way in soaking up the filth that is lingering within your mouth."
"That would be your punishment, dearest." One could count on Leeroy to impose conditionals and caveats whenever one of his promises sounded too good to be true. Yet, Cleo could not blame him for it. As far as he was concerned, he was still intending to hold up his end of the bargain - to leave her alone imminently.

Leeroy then paused, leaned in even closer until his lips were by her left ear, before he whispered on with a hint of menace.

"... Don't you dare remove it. Not until I've given you the green light to do so."
"I mean... you can try and test my patience."
"Just, don't blame me if the going gets tough." Leeroy smiled in manner that could otherwise be deemed as exceptionally charming, had Cleo not known Leeroy for who he truly was as a person.

The senior then pulled himself away from Cleo and worked the knob of her door open, before turning back to address her for the last time round. "Well then, I shall leave you to settle yourself in actual peace and quiet, now that your lips are sealed."
"Come visit me again sometime later in the evening when you feel like you're ready, or need me to untape you."
"I'd love to catch up with you, Pretty."

Pretty. A new pet name that came out of nowhere. With that, Leeroy made a swift exit from her room, and was quick to vanish back into his own space.

<2.13pm> Samuel Bby

: Heeeyy babe. How's everything going?
<2.13pm> Samuel Bby

: Hope you're settling in well!

‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Unconscious · Mar 24, 2025

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"You awoke feeling so profound,
bliss and devastation share hallowed ground."
‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Irrationally and against her better judgement, Cleo was hoping that Leeroy had somehow grown out of his long standing streak of cruelty - grown to be more mature, to be a better person - it didn’t matter. She just hoped. That singular wish had been dashed to the ground, shattering into pieces, when the very undergarments she shoved into his chest were then dangling in front of her face, the beloved pink somehow aggressively offensive to her when it was within his grasp. A huff escaped her in irritation and she couldn’t help when her eyes rolled in response to his taunting, head pivoted to the side so she didn’t have to look at the unmentionable thing she just surrendered to him.

Finally; "Cleo Alexandre sprucing up herself so she'd be ripe and ready for the taking when the time comes." Those very words jerked her attention back towards the man who didn’t seem to know what personal space was, Cleo daring to look appalled at the blatant insinuation.

“For the taking my foot! You’re such a--!” Her unconsciously filtered words were cut off as he continued, as if not a single word out of her mouth mattered in the least.

Oh, right. They didn’t matter. Not to him. Never to Leeroy. Not unless he got his way.

"Also, I think you've mistaken. I'm not taking this away from you." Her attention suddenly divided itself between his expressions and his actions; he balled her panties up again. That tiny caused her stomach to drop and her body to run cold, but paired gratis with his unpredictable behavior, Cleo felt herself shrinking inward. "Not a sad pervy guy collecting some girl's panties."

The cold hit of adrenaline did nothing to help her in the next moments; his hand was on her before she could get out anything more than a sharp “No-!” of protest. Her left hand shoved hard against his chest with a balled fist, fingers curled tight, and her right hand gripped fiercely to the one that forced her head still.

All other protests she possibly could have made were muffled and subsequently silenced when lace fabric filled her mouth, moistening uncomfortably on her tongue until it was shoved a little too deeply. Just enough that she couldn’t push it out with her tongue, Cleo was unable to do anything aside from breathe through her nose. Her eyes welled with tears at the urge to gag, the hand that fought against his hold trying valiantly, yet futilely, to loosen his grip.

It was no use.

She had no chance until he himself decided to release her.

His next words were lost - thanks to her attention being mostly directed at carefully breathing, body trembling so suddenly that her legs struggled not to give out. In moments, Leeroy was once again the only thing she could see, hear, smell - he’d leaned in close and Cleo barely swallowed a muted cry of fright even as her hands pressed flatly against his chest.

The instructions Leeroy left with her were simple; don’t take the make-shift gag out until he said so. And then that smile he offered to her set her insides on fire.

Like that, he slipped from her bubble, Cleo’s hands dropping to her sides from being shadowed with overwhelm once more.

"Come visit me again sometime later in the evening when you feel like you're ready, or need me to untape you." She didn’t look at him, gaze fixed ahead of her at the window where the sunlight was blissfully unaware of her inner turmoil as it trickled across the wooden-paneled floors, the world uncharacteristically bright for the darkness that threatened her. "I'd love to catch up with you, Pretty."

Even when it seemed like he evaporated from her peripherals like a mirage, Cleo stayed right where she was for a solid few ticks of the clock before she shakily trailed toward the door. It swung silently on its hinges, knob twisting to prevent the latch from clicking when it was carefully and fully closed. She turned, full weight against the wood, slid down to the floor with a thump, and drew her knees to her chest even as her bare rear was exposed. His voice rang through her head, pinging around again and again like a screen saver.

"You are... such a good girl for me, Cleo."

Tears welling up all over again and thricefold, Cleo pressed her hands to her face with fingers rubbing against closed eyes as if to stop the tears that already began to silently flow.

"As always, and ever shall be." Nausea ran rampant through her, forcing her otherwise still form to quake. "Do you still remember the pledge I made you swear by? I wonder if you still remember them, word for word."

That was an issue; she didn’t. She was racking her brain until her eyes burned and - she still couldn’t remember! Try as she might. She…she didn’t want to. She wouldn’t.

Maybe Cleo only blocked it out - erasing it from her memory as though it never existed. Anyone would forget - especially if they thought one would never let those words leave their mouth again, as traumatic as they’d become.

Buzzing faintly in her jacket’s pocket, her phone had been forgotten until it decided, like an annoying little bee, to bother her. Yanking it out and quickly swiping the screen open, she could barely read the text she got from her boyfriend. Sam.

<2:14pm> Cleo: Budy decorating
<2:14pm> Cleo: Busy**
<2:15pm> Cleo: tell you about it later!

She really didn’t want to talk to him right that moment. Even if she told him, he would just do some stupid little chest-puff, like an ape trying to assert his dominance. All that would do was just make things worse for her in the long run.

It was better if he didn’t know.

Tears finally dried through willpower and the wonderful tendrils of distraction, Cleo leaned back and seated herself on the floor next to the new make-shift full sized bed, whispering a quiet “Finally done...”

Oh, yes. She whispered.

See, enough time passed with Cleo curled against the door that her legs had fallen asleep, and soon through sheer boredom, she earnestly redecorated. But not before, in a fit, she yanked those cursed panties out of her mouth and threw them across the room. Of course she picked them up and put them on the desk soon after; as spiteful as she was, she wasn’t stupid enough to make it obvious that she did so and was keeping those panties close by, careful to keep every piece of tape in place - just in case.

Leeroy said he would leave her in peace, but she never knew with him. Cleo changed, so it was entirely plausible that he also had - for the worse.

She barely said a word the entire time she shoved the heavy furniture around the room - both beds against the far left wall to make a singular bed and the desks on the other side in an “L” shape, one wooden chair tucked underneath while the other was settled haphazardly by the door.

The finishing touches drew everything together; her silver laptop seated in the corner of the desks with four picture frames settled on the one closest to the window, courtesy of the giant suitcase now stuffed under the bed. Her grandparents, her late parents, Cleo and Petri, and then one with just Petri, the cutest little furball in the world. With a satisfied sigh, Cleo moved to the chair, sinking into it and leaning back, staring thoughtlessly at the photo of her Petri.

It had taken her a few hours; the furniture was heavier than she thought, and Cleo had to constantly take breaks - even tripping over her own feet at one point and having to bite her shirt just to muffle the groan that followed, curling up in a ball after landing on her knees hard.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, the now composed young woman reached over, clicking open and snapping shut her earbuds with only one going in her right ear as it connected to her phone. The tip-taping on her phone screen soon had one particular song blaring loudly at max volume in her ear;

Meghan Trainor - Better When I'm Dancin'

(Mhslmn Remix)

0:00 〇────── 2:17

⏮ ⏯ ⏭

Cleo had to distract herself somehow; the time on her phone only read about half past six, and she was not going to go to Leeroy any sooner than she had to. She sure as all hell wasn’t going to pretend she slept with panties in her mouth, and besides; he wasn’t gullible enough to believe that she would in the first place. So, Cleo was going to carefully measure how much time she should take before slinking over to his door like a sad little cat and kindly letting him know that she didn’t want to keep those now thoroughly hated undergarments in her mouth.

She would. Soon.

But not right that second.

Starting off with the heel of her bare foot tapping against the floor, Cleo sighed once more and let her head drop back, eyes closing, and letting the remix envelope her. Unable to help it, a smile bloomed across her face as she mumbled the words. “- Sing ‘oh, ay, oh~” Occasionally, she even hummed the tune softly. “Show the room whatchu can do; prove to them you got the moves -”

The next lines had her sitting up, eyes still closed, head tilted down, and her body bobbing from side to side, singing and actually dancing along in her seat so faintly that she could barely even hear herself, the clear smile still evident on her face.

She was doing everything she could to make herself feel better - albeit as unnoticeably to the outside world as possible. “‘Cuz you’re confident, babe, and ya make ya hips sway~” It…

…It wasn’t working as much as she hoped. Each time she had the urge to get up, dance or sing, she had to stifle it, resorting to only humming until, finally, with the end of the song, she leaned back again with an irritated sigh. Tapping the pause button, Cleo returned her earbuds to their case with practiced ease.

A moment later, her hands dragged down her face again before slapping down onto her thighs. She really didn’t want to see his stupid, evil, and horribly good looking face. If she was going to have any modicum of a peaceful college life, though… well… she had to. That singular thought, that desire, had Cleo on her feet, sliding them into a pair of pink house slippers she left by the door. And she took a breath, glaring at the now cold, and still wet with her own saliva, panties in her hand before shoving them back in her mouth.

Thankfully, she’d immediately put another, far more plain, black cotton pair on after she managed to pick herself up off the floor.

The poor girl hesitated for a moment, but it still wasn’t enough to rid her of disgust. Carefully tap-tap-tapping the tape over her lips so the strips didn’t get wrinkled or stuck together - everything to make it as believable as possible - she rubbed her eyes, blinking hard until they watered, and then pulled the door open almost as quietly as she closed it when left in tentative peace.

Meandering over to Leeroy’s door as slowly as she could, Cleo arrived much too soon for her liking, especially since the closer she got to it - without ample distance - the nervousness seeped back into her, pooled and heavy in her belly, heart pounding hard enough that she could feel it in her fingers, and butterflies in her chest… He’d done a number on her after just one interaction.

Now she had to live next to him?

Silently, the tormented young woman steeled herself and raised a hand, knocking on the only barrier protecting her from her bully’s ire so weakly that part of her hoped he didn’t hear. The other part just wanted to be free of, first, his gag, and second, him.

‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Keith Logan · Mar 25, 2025

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"I crave the darkness in you,
for it is where I feel most alive."
‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

"No-!"

It was a simple word. But it held a lot of significance, coming in the form of an endless string of memories that pertained to how Cleo regularly used no in the past as her trademark futile means of putting up a resistance against Leeroy from harassing her, in the times when she was most helpless. Her tame efforts never did anything to stop him.

What followed, was a wrestling contest. An uneven matchup, but nonetheless delightfully stimulating for the competitive serial winner ~~and sore loser~~ of a man, basking on the cusp of another win.

When he heard Cleo gagging against her panties however, a part of him admittedly pitied her. He was a bully. But he too, had a soft spot for a girl that looked as fine and blossomed as Cleo. That was compounded by the fact that the girl was in serious distress, which naturally sparked the saviour's complex in men like himself.

Yet, he was firm with his resolve, and did not soften his stance. He truly believed it was a necessary evil. Very randomly, it reminded him of the time his parents put him into preschool for the first time round, and then he bawled his eyes out. The stress in the form of abandonment really hurt. But it was a crucial step towards adaptation. If she was going to be his emotional punchbag for the year ahead, she needed to quickly get up to speed and build up her level of resilience, fast.

It might seem absurd that Leeroy was as self-entitled as he was, claiming Cleo in the manner that he did, like there was nothing the slightest bit abnormal nor inappropriate about his brazenness. But such was the deviant workings of the mind of the very socially divergent college senior.

Leeroy did however, afforded Cleo a brief, affectionate brush of his thumb against one side of her facial cheek, after he had taped her lingerie in. His saviour complex kicking in. The irony, was that he was the initial cause of most of her distress in the first place. And then, he followed up with a tender touch that conveyed sympathy. It was a twisted cycle of hurting, which then opened up an opportunity for him to put himself in the good light, capable of sprinkling comfort, a scheme that came full circle, all for the purpose of satiating his ego on multiple fronts - the need for power and control, whilst spewing the illusion of his benevolent persona.

The icing on the cake for Leeroy, came in the form of her eventual display of resignation to her fate - the way she flopped her hands in surrender to the sides just right before he moved away from her. Their exchange was considerably brief. But it provided a retaste, and served as a pleasant reminder of the euphoria he used to feel when the younger Cleo was helplessly within the grasp of his seemingly eternal torment.

Leeroy left her room feeling all glowy. He had just gotten himself an eye candy of a victim. What more can he ask for? In that brief walk back to his room, all he could think, was that he was bloody hyped for the year ahead.

<2.18pm> Samuel Bby

: That’s lovely!
<2.19pm> Samuel Bby

: We should find a time to FaceTime soon one of these days once you’ve settled in.
<2.19pm> Samuel Bby

: Actually, I think we should make it a routine!

It wasn’t difficult to hear a series of commotion coming from 212 from his room next door over the next couple of hours. The sounds of furniture dragging against the wooden ground was jarring to the ear. There were a few bizarre thudding against the floor and wall as well from time to time, which Leeroy couldn't quite exactly make out what was going on. One time, he thought he heard the briefest of a yelp.

Some time closer to the evening, he was sat by his desk, almost ready to pull up his Spotify playlist to drown out the deafening silence of the approaching night, when he heard the faintest of a familiar voice coming through his window. He stilled himself, and leaned closer towards the opened glass panels. Some words weren't loud enough to reach his side of the window, some did, just about enough for him to piece together the lyrics of a Meghan Trainor's song, albeit with much effort straining his ears.

Cleo was humming a tune.

The choice of an upbeat music seemed like a statement of defiance. Leeroy found it amusing, perhaps even subtly impressed at how she was able to psych herself towards positivity despite their earlier tussle.

Cleo certainly had changed quite a bit since the last time he saw her. It was almost like getting to know an old and new individual at the same time, all over again.

Exciting times.

As the season was closing in onto late autumn, it didn't take long before the sun rapidly began to set, even though it wasn't yet seven in the evening. The serenity of the place was once again interrupted, this time, by the sound of knockings on his door, the sound that he had expected to come some time right then.

The man took in the breathtaking sight of the young lady that was stood before him right after he opened his door. She wasn't in anyway, dressed like an icon of promiscuousness. But, there were essential features of her feminine physique that particularly stood out, almost flaunting non-deliberately. His eyes couldn't help, but allowed itself sometime to roam, ogle and truly savour the allure she had to offer. Eventually, their eyes met.

Leeroy reached for the tape by the right of her mouth, yanking it across the width of her oral orifice in one swift motion, then balled and tossed the sticky strip into a wire mesh bin that was placed just right beside his door, finally allowing her to free the pink lace from within. He pushed his door back shut once he got the girl to step into his room, before he turned his back against her. The lad made his way to his desk chair, turned it around to have it facing her, then settled down on it.

Leeroy's sanctuary was definitely quite a lot more personalized. Numerous furniture and cabinets in his room were definitely not part of what had come with the initial bare bone state of the dorm room. He must have purchased them and set it up himself. There was even an olden vintage but refurbished television that seemed to be used as a monitor for his PlayStation. And the amount of books in his room hinted of him being quite a bit of an - surprise - intellectual. Like Cleo, he had reshuffled the beds and merged the two twin size together for himself. He hadn't got any pictures of people that he knew hung up. Instead, they were either posters, illustrations, or his taunting collection of certificates of achievements and awards to remind of himself how outstanding his was. Coupled with the dim lit and dark ambiance of the room, everything came together to give the place quite a bit of a strong masculine edge. Strangely at the same time, the place felt cozy in its own right.

"I'm glad you came."

The young man paused, swiveled his chair, before he reached out to an empty metal snack bowl that he had placed by the side of his study desk, and poured some water from a flask that was just right beside it. He turned back to face Cleo, manspreaded himself, before settling the bowl, filled with water up to one fifth full, in between his legs. He lifted up a hand and curled his fingers in gesture for Cleo to walk over to him.

"You must be very thirsty."

"Before we get to that though, whatever happened to 'Glad to serve, on my hands and knees?' Do you actually need me to make you recite your pledge back to me, so you'll be able to better recall the basics?" And for the second time that day, Leeroy was attempting to walk Cleo a trip down memory lane, pushing her to recall the vow that she had made.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"
"Come here and receive your deserved treat."

It was hard to think he wasn't being condescending, even though he sounded pretty darn convincing that the offer was the result of genuine graciousness and compassion. His digits, tapping against the edge of the metal bowl in gesture for her to take a sip from it, like it was some sort of a cat dish, that was placed dangerously close to his crotch.

‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Unconscious · Apr 4, 2025

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"You awoke feeling so profound,
bliss and devastation share hallowed ground."
‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

While feeling like she waited for hours upon hours at his doorstep, Cleo, in reality, only waited moments before Leeroy was standing in front of her. It was too quick, in her opinion. Like he’d actually been waiting for her.

Honestly, as unsettling as such a prospect was, Cleo didn’t entirely rule out the possibility - as she knew him prior, he would be excited to torment her again. She wouldn’t cry this time, though. Not in front of him. Not again, ever.

Staring up at the taller man from beneath her lashes for those long seconds as she waited impatiently for her oral freedom, her eyes narrowed. The way his eyes roved over her, silently touching and soaking her entire being in, wasn’t lost. It was clear what he thought of her after all this time. And it caused her hands to bunch up the sides of her earthy brown cardigan, closing it in a way that the cloth wrapped around her body as if to shield it from his staggeringly prying gaze. Cleo sincerely regretted the fact that the thought to change into something less… nice hadn’t crossed her mind.

She was distracted enough with the disquieting knowledge that she was pretty enough to catch his eye in such a way that Cleo hadn’t noticed his hand lift towards her until a sudden abrasive pain, though dull enough from her sneaky little bit of defiance earlier, rippled over her mouth, pulling a muffled grunt from her panty-gagged mouth. A bit of compassion was the least he could do, but alas - that was far too much to ask of the man.

Absently stepping past him as he seemed to motionlessly and wordlessly coax her into his room, Cleo’s own hand, fingers now chilled with unease, went to her mouth to rub away the sting. That mindless little motion - following him - had been molded into her from all those years ago, so alarmingly natural that she hadn't even noticed she was in his room until the door closed again. Trapped. Still, her fingers pinched the offending pink lace from her mouth, the fabric unraveling just enough, yet remaining wetly crumpled.

“Agh…”

Following the unhappy grunt, she clicked her tongue, shooting a glare towards his back as he turned away from her. Lesson learned, she was careful to control at least a small bit of the displeasure in her expression. It wouldn't bode well for her if she did much more than glare. Even that was something she was secretly reluctant to do. Leeroy was scary. As he'd always been. Even still, Cleo had half the mind to throw the wet panties at Leeroy’s retreating form, the reckless anger trying to get the better of her, but alternatively she balled them up again to shove the fabric in her pocket before crossing her arms over her chest once more and allowing a generous once-over of his space.

It was cozy. In fact, Cleo might have liked it if not for the single fact that it housed the Devil himself. That being said, she was inadvertently offered suggestions as to what she wanted to do with her own space; a fuzzy rug, a bookcase and dresser, maybe some cute blinds - endless possibilities coming in the form of a welcome distraction during trying times.

"I'm glad you came." Leeroy had the habit of preventing his victims from thinking about anything but him - Cleo was no exception to that rule, and true to it, her attention snapped to him. A mix of curiosity and confusion marred her features as she took in his form, brows furrowing as Leeroy poured a clear liquid that she could only assume was water into a bowl. Her head, near indistinctly, cocked to the side. That expression only deepened, lips parting, when he placed said featureless bowl between his legs.

And then he coaxed her forward.

Intense denial rattled through her brain, her curiosity falling away into disbelief; "You must be very thirsty." Cleo had always been woefully unable to control her face, emotions displayed succinctly and without a doubt in everything she did. "Before we get to that though, whatever happened to 'Glad to serve, on my hands and knees?'”

There it was again.

Cleo visibly paled, color draining from her face as those words clicked into place and made her vision swim, cords of memory threaded through her so deeply that a single pluck was all it took to make her twitch. “Do you actually need me to make you recite your pledge back to me, so you'll be able to better recall the basics?" Cleo violently pushed away the countless memories that arose. It took even more effort - willpower - to repress the words that had poured over her tongue, threatening to surge past her lips as was so violently instilled into her very psyche. It whispered to Cleo in her own voice much like the little demon on her shoulder, taunting her on the opposite side of the walls that she herself placed for protection. It was trying to tempt her into a trap of pain and misery;

...Glad to serve, on my hands and knees.
As always... and ever shall be.

The distinct memory flavored her mouth like a bitter fruit, the feeling of her tongue curling around each syllable, words that had tumbled past her lips over and over again, so many times, that the only thing she ever remembered was Leeroy’s face. Whether at a distance as she gazed up at him, or so close that she could see herself reflected in his eyes - it didn’t matter. His visage had always been the only thing she could see, unable to look away even in terror.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" This time she jumped, the memory so strong that her vision had momentarily vanished and restored only at the sound of his voice to be greeted with the current image of her nightmare's lounging form. "Come here and receive your deserved treat."

She didn’t want to. The thought itself protested through her, as if fruitlessly pleading for a savior. Who was she to save herself in that moment? The door was closed, and even if she took the chance, Cleo was certain that he would be on her before her shaky little fingers even touched the doorknob. Even if she tried, Cleo would be on her knees, lapping out of either bowl or hand in the end. Again, it didn’t matter.

So, she resigned.

Gaze lifting to the ceiling to mimic prayer, lashes fluttering furiously as if to blink away the urge to cry, and her once pale face flushing with shame, the reluctantly yielding woman let loose a shaking breath before sinking to her knees. Then, her hands met the floor, finally releasing the edges of the cardigan that shielded her form from his eyes.

Cleo gingerly crawled, inching forward in such a way so she both didn’t hurt the knee she’d already abused earlier, or lose her slippers. Fighting to move - to just get it over with - yet unable to refuse without facing his ire, Cleo was the poster girl for unequivocal distress. She kept her eyes focused on her hands, one in front of the other, step by step, until his legs came into view. Then, lifting her head, her eyes met his briefly before instantly redirecting towards the seemingly expectant bowl. She didn't want to see that satisfaction. Besides, Cleo knew he was watching, probably taking her submission in like a long-awaited appetizer. She certainly felt like one, her will to fight slowly but surely being devoured.

What she knew to be resentment coursed through her even as she shifted closer, pleading with herself this time to just do it, and seated herself between his spread legs. Her own legs slightly splayed to make way for one hand to press itself against the floor as it braced her weight.

Pushing the contempt away, Cleo swallowed her pride and rode the wave of emotional distance the poor thing willed into herself with the next few moments resulting in her face tucking into that stupid metallic dish. The tip of her nose dipped into the water as she licked, head bobbing and eyes clenching shut when she couldn’t bear the thought of what she was doing anymore and desperately trying to ignore just how close she was to his crotch.

‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Keith Logan · Apr 6, 2025

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"I crave the darkness in you,
for it is where I feel most alive."
‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Leeroy was paying close attention to the girl despite his nonchalant and aloof outlook, represented through the little dismissive gestures like turning his back against her, as if she was beneath him, or that her presence didn't mean a thing. Against all logic, he was mildly surprised that she chose to step further into his den on her own accord, even when he did not command her to do so. It felt like she was driven by unconscious instinct. And it was clear all those years of Pavlov conditioning had become permanently ingrained into her every fiber. She might have worked through sweat and tears to attempt moving on from her past. But all it took, was for Leeroy's to unleash her conditioning stimulus - his sheer dominance and perhaps, just his mere presence -, and the resulting conditioned response in the form of unquestioning obedience forced its way back into her consciousness. Just like that, Leeroy undid all the hard work that she toiled over the past few years, which was responsible for transforming her into the vibrant young woman that she had become.

Deep within, that made him very happy.

College life hadn't been as inspiring, nor could it match up to the peak and prime of his time during high school. But with their extraordinary reunion, reality came caressing him with the thrilling prospect of being able to relive those glory years, all over again.

Leeroy waited patiently for Cleo to maneuver her way over to where he was sat. His mind was running through all possible reactions that the girl could pull right after he had verbalised forth, his demands of her. Despite the alpha figure that he was, there was a fleeting moment of nerviness within him that he did well to conceal, that the girl might well snap and make things challenging for him. After all, his grip over her mind was weak and fragile at best. He was well aware that they were playing a precarious game of cat and mouse. He knew, there was still more work to be done before he can actually go for the kill and effectively seal Cleo's fate to him.

Life has pried one of his greatest joy away from him when he graduated from high school. Now that destiny decided to place Cleo back into his life, he was going to make the most out of it and ensure he bind and padlock this gift of fate to him this time round.

Delightfully for the young lad, Cleo acceded to his request without putting up a fight.

By the time she was knelt between his legs, he widened his thighs further to receive her with open limbs. His back slouched against the backrest of his chair, to give himself the best possible downward visual angle of the glorious display of submission.

"Good kitty."
"Well actually..."

Leeroy paused, turning his upper waist to lean forward over to his desk. He fumbled against one of his drawers, before he pulled out a familiar hair band that came with a pair of distinctive white fluffy bunny ears. He made her wear the ears on numerous occasions before, including that one unforgettable instance when he brought her to the local zoo, asked her to don it on, and then got down on a squat to hop alongside actual bunnies on display for close to a quarter of an hour around the premise - right in front of crowds of family and kids.

Leeroy actually kept the band with him, as if it was some sort of prized heirloom that was worth holding onto. Leeroy must have been thinking about her from time to time given that the ornament was in his possession all these years.

"Lost. And found."

A bright grin surfaced across his face.

"You look absolutely adorable in this."

The young man then assisted with the donning of the band, dragging it soothingly across her scalp. Once it was set in place, he began to run his fingers through her hair, eerily sensual with the way his finger pads brushed ever so tenderly, and most certainly goosebumps inducing. His soft touch was highly uncharacteristic, given the nature of their history. Leeroy used to be nothing but mean to Cleo in the past. He was still as mean as ever fast forward. At the same time, he was different to young Leeroy. He had been displaying these little snippets of a gentle giant in which no one else would possibly believe Cleo if she told them that Leeroy the Coldhearted was capable of caring.

At the same time, the proximity of the lad's crotch could not possibly be ignored, especially since the teasing girth and length that was partially showing through his grey cotton sweat pants hinted the prospects of a eye-widening anaconda snaking beneath. It was well and alive, seemingly growing meatier, lengthier, by the moments. Eventually, the prominent bulge turned noticeably horizontal, pointing as far wide just slightly beyond the width of his own hip.

It looked like a proper monster. And there was a distinctive musk that was filling up the surrounding air, sourcing from the tip of the ominous manhood.

Very spontaneously, Leeroy grabbed his phone, which was within reaching distance by his desk, pointed it down towards the lapping girl, and took a quick shot of her. The flashlight, temporarily blinding. The evidence of her seemingly willing compliance, down on her knees, one for his archive.

"Bunlet?"

The grin on his lips mellowed a notch, after he put his phone far away.

"Do you remember the remaining verse of your pledge to me?"
"Steadfast in bondage. Honesty in servitude."
"Glad to serve, on my hands and knees. As always for sir, and ever shall be."

"Please, recite it all back ten times for me."

...
...

Leeroy then leaned forward, gave her forehead a peck with his lips, before leaning down to her right ear, whispering on.

"... and then tell me, have you been honest with me."
"I'm warning you, and only just this once. Don't fucking lie to me."

‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Unconscious · Apr 8, 2025

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"You awoke feeling so profound,
bliss and devastation share hallowed ground."
‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

"Good kitty."

It was a precarious and otherwise deceitful notion that the devilish nightmare before her was praising Cleo, that particular designation eliciting intense aversion at the very thought, and halting her movements though her tongue remained snug against the dish’s cold bottom. "Well actually..."

Drawing her upward with only her visage lifting from within the bowl that was settled just so between his legs - the words that seemed to trail in afterthought - she peered up at his face to watch him twist and reach until his profile returned. The intimidating beast of a man had inadvertently made his obsession undeniable when a pair of fuzzy bunny-ears were sighted. After all that time he’d kept it seemingly like a talisman, cursing Cleo with the cruel fate of subjugation, to fall prey to the depravity named Leeroy. A sudden grin garnished his face, though her experiences of him made it less attractive and more striking, magnetic even, attraction somehow twisting in her discomforted mind.

“Lost. And found.” He’d said. Cleo was just as suddenly under the intense impression that he wasn’t referring to the headband suspended in his grip. "You look absolutely adorable in this." Unmoving, the long-eared adornment settled atop her head, tucking behind her ears only to be followed shortly after by his fingers suffusing themselves into her hair so gently - almost delicate, in a sense - that her skin prickled, baby-hairs on the back of her neck raising with goose-bumped flesh. At the same moment, her face flushed with a heat that had only just vanished. It returned, though she would never admit it to either herself or aloud, at the hinted sight of his arousal seated in the baseline of her sight, growing and so, so close that, should Cleo have breathed through her mouth, she would taste the invading musk instead of scenting it. Regardless, it was a sight that threw her psyche into tumultuous waters, looping and twisting haphazardly as it tried to rationalize that that wasn’t what she saw. It couldn’t be. There was no way that could possibly be his -

Inside, those reasonings sounded pathetic, even to her.

Within the moments that passed, Leeroy twisted again, drawing her attention only for Cleo to blink hard, a sudden flash of bright light burning.

Cleo had to force those blinding light-spots from her vision as she sat up straight, lashes fluttering and shoulders leveling back while her weight settled onto the cushion of her calves. In doing so, Cleo almost couldn’t tell that the grin that taunted her faded just a fraction. But she did, and when she did, her eyes responded in contrast, dark pupils dilating brutally to leave a thin strip of colored amber. A feeling of dread. Trouble. Danger came with the slightest loss of that delighted grin. Immediately, Cleo’s spotted vision had somehow tunneled, so entirely hyper-focused that her peripherals blackened. He was asking her if she finally remembered those detestable words, repeating them for her so they sunk in like a physical touch. He hadn’t particularly given her a chance to answer - not that she would have.

"Please, recite it all back ten times for me."

Then, to her despair he leaned in, pressing his lips - an astounding action that she couldn’t quite comprehend - against her forehead. An encroaching sense of doom swelled within the small of her belly along with the ever-diminishing distance between them, to the point that Cleo had to dig her nails into the back of her clasped hands to keep from flinching backwards, the heat of his breath caressing her ear when he leaned in even further.

"... and then tell me, have you been honest with me?" Her teeth sank into her lower lip, enough to be slightly painful, in a flawed attempt to muffle the breathless sound of apprehension that managed to escape. "I'm warning you, and only just this once. Don't fucking lie to me."

She knew he couldn’t see her face, nor could he see the immediate fear that swamped it, yet, she still choked back an abrupt mewl that tried to bluster forth, the inside of her mouth suddenly parched.

He knew? Did he? No, he couldn’t!

There was no way, Cleo denied to herself, panic welling up along with the shrewd acknowledgement that she might just be in some serious trouble if she weren’t careful. It wasn’t as though she had to say anything for him to know she lied in some way, even if he didn’t know what about - Cleo knew it; her guilt was evident in the sudden trembling that overtook her, body pulsing with each beat of her heart.

Cleo did the only thing that she hoped might prevent the myriad of punishments Leeroy could cook up, hoping to gain at least some mercy, or even sympathy, though the momentary decision was likely reckless. Cleo could, theoretically, settle for sympathy. "S…steadfast in bondage - Honesty in servitude." The words came quickly even though she stumbled over them, utterance meek and tone nigh desperate. Her tongue was tying itself up. "Glad to serve,” A quick and deep intake of breath caused her chest to rise. “On my hands and knees, as always for Sir, and ever sha… shall be." Those hands - those poor tremorous hands - holding tightly to one another, squeezed hard as if to offer comfort to the woman of which they were attached.

And so she repeated that oath, because that’s what it was, again. And again, and again. Over and over as her view of his shoulder, locked in, blurred with moisture. The third instance of Cleo’s repetition, she began to count silently with each finger releasing its vice-like curl, her pledge beginning to sound more like a prayer until both hands were open, palms up and resting on her upper thighs.

The silence vibrated in the air with the absence of her voice, accented only by her heart pounding in her ears even as the miniscule voice within repeated only one word, begging internally; Please. For what? Leniency? Compassion?

Forgiveness? She dared not let the plea pass her lips, though they too trembled like her hands. The mere idea that Leeroy knew that she’d not followed his instruction from a mere few hours prior elicited in her a level of stress that she’d not felt before, this newfound unpredictability she saw through his unnervingly soft touch frightening her. While before she’d been fairly confident in piecing together what he might do, she now had no clue. Or perhaps she was in denial of it, a wish for it to be otherwise becoming so vehement that it distorted her convictions.

‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Keith Logan · Thursday at 7:38 AM

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"I crave the darkness in you,
for it is where I feel most alive."
‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Leeroy watched Cleo watched him. It was amusing to be soaking in the sight of what looked to be a mixture of disbelief and astoundment, as her eyes were drawn to the stealthy slitherings of his majestic form at point blank. Disgust too, maybe? That bit was much less obvious or certain to him. He wondered, if she realised what was causing him such degree of arousal. They weren't exactly engaging in anything too explicitly sexual. Yet, the man was full blown erected, spurred on purely by a certain sight of the girl down on her knees, feeding away so precariously close to an appendage that seemed incredibly worked up by the display that was unfolding right in front of his eyes.

The young man took notice of the way her pupils widened and darkened. More often than not, people had grown accustomed to relying on subconscious instincts to process the non-verbal cues of others in their day to day social interactions. But Leeroy had over the course of his life, learned to appreciate these processes on a very deliberate, conscious level. It was synonymous to the way some could take hours to consume their meals, mindful about every mouth they took because they believe each bite was worth savouring down to the finest bits. It is through focusing on every minute detail, that one could realise how much more they would have missed, had they rushed through the process that would typically otherwise be perceived as mundane by many. The constant morphological changes of her eyes were telling him stories through his own interpretation, like one would try to decipher a piece of art at an exhibit.

And in her eyes, Leeroy recognised the same near epitome of obedience he was familiar with years back. Not exactly flawless. But it was moving enough for him to shed a proverbial tear, that his efforts all those years back in high school had come down to this - it survived the test of time; and despite her noticeable changes, Cleo was still at the heart of her, the girl that he used to know - undividedly attentive to him, and in her straightened poise, looking like she was ready to be of service. He had conditioned her to give him the attention that he so desperately seek and typically needed from just about anyone else, even if it stemmed from dubious-consensual reluctance.

Cleo as she stood, was still that perfect pet, who still remembered her place with him.

The kiss that Leeroy planted on her forehead wasn't just for show. It was genuine, conveying his affection for her, even if she might not view it that way. The truth, was that Leeroy needed Cleo, a truth he did not wish to admit. He had been on a rapid descend since the hay days of his high school years. College was brutal, as people were more mature, smarter, and better able to fend for themselves. Leeroy wasn't able to exert his dominance as effectively in the way that he did back at high school. Over time, he was surreptitiously ostracized, and starved off attention. Naturally, he turned desperate. And now, Cleo turned up out of the blue, and very strikingly reminded him of what he had been missing out all these years.

Leeroy looked down at Cleo when she began to recite her vows. It felt almost penitential, perhaps, a little sacrilegious, as he demanded that she worshipped him with her prayers on her knees, like he was her god. When he demanded her honesty, it was through her tone, the stumbling of her words, and the way she dug her nails into her palms as he had noticed, that he already knew her answer without her outrightly confessing. It was like he was able to read into her mind, that they shared a warped bond, like he was truly, her god, in her and with her.

The young man actually patiently waited for Cleo to follow up her ten recites with an answer to his initial question. That ended up with a period of awkward silence between the pair. For a good almost a third of a minute, he gazed into her eyes, expectantly. Nothing.

He figured he had to speak.

"Not responding huh. Wise, given your circumstance. You've actually got brains."

"That doesn't mean you'll get away with this though, bunlet."
"I'll take the silence as an admission of guilt."

Leeroy then pulled out his smart phone and replayed video evidence he had witfully taken earlier, so she couldn't retort and lie her way through, and that what was going to happen imminently, was justified. It showed a video of his phone perspectively slipping out of his window, and looking over to the adjacent window of hers. The video did not capture any of her face or form. But the audio evidence was just about clear enough - it was her faint voice, choppy in parts due to the distance, singing the lyrics of that earlier self-motivational song.

He let the clip play towards the end, allowing her ample time to let it sink into her that she had been caught out.

"If you intend to cheat the system, you gotta be less reckless at least." Leeroy only spoke after he locked his phone back shut. He let out an audible sighed, like a father disappointed, but not surprised by the misbehaviour of his daughter. "You know the drill, darling."

"Over to the bed. Brace position."

The brace position.

Back in the days, the brace was a regular and familiar posture for Cleo. It happened most often during after school hours, when the compound was less crowded. A great majority of the time involved her bending over one of the desks in one of the empty classrooms, skirt lifted up above her waist without being instructed to do so, hands spread and grabbing onto the far edge of the table, or the legs of it should the table be too limited in size. But she had also been asked to brace at various other locations before, including, but not limited to restrooms, the stage of the assembly hall, and even along staircases and alleyways outside of school.

Then, he reopened the same drawer that he took her bunny ears from, and pulled out yet another relic of her high school days - that damned twenty one inch long steel ruler with a square base and a rounded end by the opposite tip of it.

Leeroy closed in on Cleo, and in one quick motion, dexterously lifted up the front of her skirt with the ruler to give her a quick inspection underneath, before releasing it.

"Perhaps I had been too lenient with you all those years. And you've forgotten what happens to you when you upset me."

"Panties, off."
"Dump it into that empty bin there right beside the desk, along with the one you have stuffed in your pocket."

In all the times that Cleo had been made to get into brace position in the past, she always had her underwear on. There were times Leeroy had been tempted to push the ante, but ended up always stopping short. In truth, even the bully himself had his moments of reservations, that lingering fear that by crossing that boundary, the younger him could get himself into some serious trouble with the authorities. These days, those fears were long gone. His mind was sharper. And he had thought of ways to safeguard his trespasses. It was still risky. But age and experience had emboldened him.

Leeroy then shifted himself to the base of his bed, before pirouetting around to face the girl once more. His arms, down to his two sides. The one with the ruler fidgeted, tapping the end of the metallic instrument against one side of his outer calf, posturing, awaiting, for Cleo to ready herself and to accept her due punishment.

‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

Unconscious · 2025-04-14T07:01:29-0500

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"You awoke feeling so profound,
bliss and devastation share hallowed ground."
‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

She should have admitted it when she had the chance - the faint itch in the back of her mind rumbled through her at full force once Cleo realized that Leeroy wasn’t going to let her off gently. She should have known. He knew her far too well, had always been far less lenient with her when she did anything he didn’t like, punishing her as was the norm when --

No. It wasn’t the fucking norm. He was messed up, enjoyed scaring her. He enjoyed that she would freeze, that she couldn’t fight back, that, even if she said ‘no’, Cleo would still do as he said. If only to make the punishments less severe.

Yes - that was the reason for her fitful obedience.

He’d been oddly patient in those moments, watching as if he knew she would give in eventually, a long stare spurring her into action - or inaction. Whichever had been required at the time. If one was required.

Leeroy’s acknowledgement that she had, in fact, gotten herself into a certain predicament, settled within her chest. Adrenaline caused the little hairs all over her body to rise, chills coldly rushing through her that nearly made the girl shudder. And then his phone was in his hand once more, the sounds from within marked by the occasional breeze and shuffle of fabric, but also a very familiar hum.

The video very clearly showed the window to her room.

She was caught. Well, and truly. The voice in that recording was distinctively hers. She was just trying to cheer herself up - free herself from nerves and apprehension. But it wasn’t as if that would matter to Leeroy. He told her not to do something and yet she did it anyway. Disobeyed. Cleo knew better. She knew what would happen and still did whatever she liked. Soon enough, the discrete but familiar feeling that, just maybe, she deserved this flickered to life in her mind.

It was an unnerving sensation that Cleo had almost forgotten, and was a role that she settled into long ago before being freed by his absence. So she told herself she didn’t deserve it. She didn’t do anything wrong, but instead had to bear the consequences of not placating the man before her. To get it over with.

She would. She would, and would simply bear the weight of another year as uneventfully as she could. Right? That was the longest this new ordeal was going to last. Then he would leave her alone.

Again.

With those conflicting thoughts playing clearly on her face, Cleo swallowed and took a breath.

"If you intend to cheat the system, you gotta be less reckless at least. You know the drill, darling. Over to the bed. Brace position."

Those words curled her lips downward, brows furrowing. Cleo knew what was coming. That didn’t mean that she wanted it to. Her eyes followed his every move regardless, even as she visibly deflated, and the whine that left her with the sight of Leeroy’s chosen method of punishment was muffled when her lips pursed.

Though Leeroy extended the silver-hued ruler towards her, she didn’t move. She didn’t even flinch this time and instead, meekly, lifted her hands away from her thighs, palms out, as he used it to lift her skirt, flustered when her new undergarments were on display.

"Perhaps I have been too lenient with you all those years.” As he spoke, Cleo stared up at him through her lashes as her chin tucked. “And you've forgotten what happens to you when you upset me."

“I haven’t forgotten, though…” Her voice was faint, as if talking to herself, tone warbling with the admittance.

"Panties, off." Once more, surprise ticked across her features. "Dump it into that empty bin there right beside the desk, along with the one you have stuffed in your pocket."

Aversion, disinclination even, reared its ugly head once more. “That isn’t how it goes - that’s not what you--” It came out much more firm than how she felt, but she couldn’t take it back. The words had already spilled out.

As if realizing what she’d done, Cleo immediately shuffled backwards, fearing further backlash - or worse - and lifting herself to her feet. Significantly softer, she said “..I don’t want to…”

Yet… likely to Leeroy’s satisfaction… she still did. This time, slipping her feet free of the house shoes she wore, she lifted her skirt once more, hesitating fleetingly before those black unmentionables were slipped down her thighs and tossed with regret into the wastebin he’d motioned towards along with the pink ones that were scrunched in her pocket. She turned, the deed done, and had to steel herself at the sight of the man before her.

She could run. The thought skittered formlessly along her subconscious, eyes flicking tellingly towards the closed door - but Cleo, instead, silently made her way towards him, bare feet quiet on the wood beneath her. She took another deep breath upon stopping alongside him, first placing her left hand on the edge of the bed, her right slipping back as she bent at the waist, lower thighs pressing tight against the mattress once her skirt was lifted. Then, her right joined her left upon lowering just a little more, fingers gripping solidly at the blankets, bracing outwardly - and mentally - as the position suggested.

Her entire lower half was perfectly on display, charcoal skirt bunched around her waist and her feet shoulder-width apart for stability. It was also why she’d taken her slippers off - so she didn't somehow lose her footing. Nothing he did to her was ever easy for the younger girl to bear, so she needed something to provide her some form of assurance. In this case - preparing for the worst.

Cleo tipped her head downward, but the attempt to hide her face, to hide the mortification of the most intimate parts of her body being on display, was thwarted with her having briefly forgotten about the bunny-ears on her head. It seemed nothing could hide the colour in her cheeks from him even without her so much as turning her face.

Her tongue wetted her lower lip before retreating back into her mouth and she closed her eyes, with an almost sweet tasting “I’m sorry” crossing her lips. And she was. Not for upsetting him, she told herself, but for the fact that she got caught. Yes. That was what she told herself, emotions conflicting yet so, so painfully similar.

‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅

ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴡᴇ ᴅᴏ ғᴏʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 🗡 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ || ᴜɴᴄᴏɴsᴄɪᴏᴜs x ᴋᴇɪᴛʜ ʟᴏɢᴀɴ ⁽ⁿˢᶠʷ⁾

Keith Logan

Eclectic

Unconscious

Call Me Binx!

Keith Logan

Eclectic

Unconscious

Call Me Binx!

Keith Logan

Eclectic

Unconscious

Call Me Binx!

Keith Logan

Eclectic

Unconscious

Call Me Binx!

Keith Logan

Eclectic

Unconscious

Call Me Binx!

Keith Logan

Eclectic

Unconscious

Call Me Binx!

Keith Logan

Eclectic

Unconscious

Call Me Binx!