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

[Keith Logan]

​

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 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

 

[Unconscious]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "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]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "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]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "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]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "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]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "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]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "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]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "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]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "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. ​ ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​