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

[Unconscious]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "You awoke feeling so profound, bliss and devastation share hallowed ground." ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​ To say that the day was rife with Cleo buzzing around like a little bee was an understatement; she drove back and forth from the dorms to the shops at least four times, each with her arms full of long boxes, short boxes, boxes that she had to drag up the stairs, into her room, and sit on the floor for a while afterward to catch her breath. Significantly more energized than when she awoke, Cleo was quick. Efficient. Quick enough, unfortunately, to have forgotten that her door should have been locked. Not that she’d locked it intentionally, but at the very least she had been so distracted with getting everything in its place as quickly and perfectly as possible, other details had been entirely and fervently overlooked. The final time she returned and had set out again, Cleo struggled to carry a large - and incredibly heavy - package she’d gotten from the post office with the soft plastic handle of a new comforter set in her mouth. Promptly and unceremoniously throwing everything either on the bed or floor, Cleo would pat down her clothes, look around, and leave again. After having been satisfied with what she obtained at the stores, it was time to head down to the Fresher’s fair. It was the least she could do - she did, after all, want to stay out. The longer she was in her room, she reasoned, the more likely something would go wrong. Something that would be forever out of her control regardless of how hard she tried to keep a hold on it - on herself. That was what made her the most nervous. How easily had Leeroy made her tremble? Why hadn’t it solely been through fear - through dread? Why had both of those heavy emotions melted into something hotter, more lewd, and agonizing? And why did she let him? Sure, Cleo could say it had been from leftover trauma - in fact, she swore that it was, but the blutterflies flipping in her stomach were whispering a deeper, darker story. It was a story she clearly didn’t want a part in. Right? So why? Thus, she did everything throughout the day to keep from spending too much time in her room. Within her efforts was a wholehearted attempt to keep from answering those questions, but also to keep from thinking about what had happened the night before; the physical pain, the sexuality of it, the confusion and guilt - the fact that the entirely wrong face had appeared in her dreams and in her fantasies. Each and every time her thoughts wandered and his face appeared, she would be reminded all over again. His voice would play in her head as if on a loop, and the unwelcome weight of need would settle in her core all over again. But… Cleo reassured herself that she would have to endure the entirely new torment for only a year. Just a single year, and then Leeroy would graduate and she would be free. Just like before, and this time… for the rest of her life. In the end, Cleo’s return was imminent. Her final entrance into the dorm building just after 4pm was more sluggish than before, and she just as slowly entered her room, arms full of commodities from the fair. Everyone just… shoved them into her arms, trying to talk her ear off about clubs and classes and professors. It was fun, but entirely exhausting. But the woman had things to do, and room to organize. Soon enough, her earbuds were in, music blaring with an alarm set on her phone so she didn’t lose track of time as she opened boxes, put together a bookshelf, metal clothing rack, and a cube storage unit. It took time and a significant amount of cursing since she only ever watched whenever her Papaw set up new furniture for her. She stripped and remade her bed, put dirty clothes in the new collapsible hamper and clean clothes on the rack before finally opening the package that was priority-shipped from home. This time, setting up her soundboard and second laptop took only minutes, the action having become second nature, and Cleo allowed herself just enough time to look around her room, ensuring that she was indeed satisfied. It wasn’t home, but it would have to make due. With at least fifteen minutes left until her alarm would sound at 6:55, she settled once more on the floor, this time organizing her self-care items in the cube shelving. In a normal world, Cleo would have called her grandparents. However, that was something she did far earlier in the day - and received an earful from her grandmother, conversation eventually moving on to both everything else and nothing at all yet full of laughter all the same. Once more it felt like she was lying to them when she said she was okay. That she was just homesick. Just like before. Cleo couldn’t tell them. They didn’t even really know that Leeroy existed, let alone that he was the instigator of everything she’d gone through, nor could they ever know that she was once again chained to him like some kind of pet in a cage. They only knew that she had been thoroughly affected all those years ago, becoming a shell of who they knew, and who swore that nothing was wrong… and it had come to a head eventually, all accumulating into the moment that she couldn’t hide it anymore and they’d been called to the hospital as a result. With a sound, far too similar to a squeak, of surprise, Cleo’s clearly obsessive - and delightfully therapeutic - organizing was violently halted when her music and her humming cut off to make way to a high pitched alarm that blasted into her earbuds. Cursing under her breath, she took as short of a time as she could setting everything further to rights; placing her phone and earbuds on the desk, leaning the boxes her various things were in near the door. Finally, with a single breath to calm the sudden nerves that overtook her, she exited her now perfect little sanctuary and made her way to the showers. For a long moment outside the doors, Cleo wasn’t sure if she should just walk in, or to wait. So, for fear of being late, her hands raised with one pushing the door open while the other knocked faintly, nose scrunched in mild distaste at the simple fact that Leeroy would either be waiting for her, or joining her shortly. She highly doubted he held himself to the same punctuality imposed on his victim, but with only a day having passed since he came back into her life with such an engulfing presence, she still couldn’t even hope to truly expect what she used to. ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​

 

[Keith Logan]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "I crave the darkness in you, for it is where I feel most alive." ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​ Leeroy wasn't one to forgive nor forget easily. And that was why he still felt the raw emotions of yesternight eating him slowly from within the following day as he went about town. He couldn't help it. Fucking heart.​ Years of being implicitly socially outcasted made him an incredibly jealous person. Why can't he get the attention that he wanted from people? Why was everyone getting it right, and him, wrongly? It was a vicious cycle of him chasing for the limelight aggressively, which in turn, made people pull away from him. And he was in too deep with the reputation that he had for people to believe he was capable of being nice. He tried being nice for a while before. But he could sense an air of distrust and uncertainty coming from his peers. So he gave up, figuring it was not going to work. If only he persevered on, maybe he might have stood a chance at starting afresh. So back into the cycle he went, chasing something that was only slipping away further from him the more he pressed. Bullying gave him short term relief of gratification in exchange for long term damage, very much paralleled to the effects of the consumption of recreational drugs. Cleo was a drug that pacified his predisposition like no other. How much a day can do to completely turn a person's life upside down - unbeknownst to her, their reunion has affected Leeroy as much as it had affected her in some ways. The irony was that one had a niggling positive fire that she was so desperate to suppress, while the other, suddenly needing to deal with a heavy heart that was dampening his mood throughout the day. She was supposed to be upset, and he was supposed to be thrilled. Evening couldn't come sooner for the lad. He needed to see Cleo, again. The day had been expensive, like, expensive. There was a fleeting moment when he asked himself what on earth was he doing, spending all these money on a girl - it wasn't even to impress her! But his heart always eventually concluded that it was all worth it, that it was money well spent. He settled down his haul at about five in the early evening, and got to setting up some of his purchases that Cleo would come to know in times ahead. At some point, he could faintly hear the sounds of Cleo returning, of footsteps against the creaking corridor ground. But his pride decided not to interfere with whatever she needed to get to until 7 - he wanted to maintain that image of composure and control everyone knew him to possess, even though deep down, he knew it was all an act for the longest time. By 6.45pm however, he was already sat by the common wooden bench that was placed between two rows of shower cubicles. The showers weren't dirty. In fact, they were dry and squeaky clean. They were just old and uninspiring. Each cubicle as surrounded by tiled concrete dividers, with no more than opaque curtains to cover, except for the last two cubicles at the end of each row, which were twice as big, presumably for the handicapped. Those two came with plastic doors for whatever reason, with a metal hook for a lock. At 6.57pm, he finally heard the main door of the shower swung open. And in came the sight that he very much desired. He could not contain a certain faint, brief, lob-sided smile that came through the right of his lips. He stood up, and walked over to Cleo. Wordlessly, he reached beneath her skirt, grabbed her panties by the front, before ripping it apart with one swift motion, then tossing the now useless piece of fabric onto the floor. By now, it was becoming a recurring theme. It was almost as if he was attempting to let her know through his actions, that it was only a matter of time until her underwear would be a non-existent item in her wardrobe before the end of the month, at the rate things were going. He turned his back against her, and walked back towards the row of cubicles, then stopping by one somewhere by the midway line, before he turned around again to address her. "Come here, Bunlet." "Strip." "And get in there." He tilted his head briefly towards his chosen compartment in gesture of where he expected her to head into imminently. Oblivious to her, was that Leeroy had perched a camcorder onto the soap holder by the opposite facing cubicle. While it was in plain sight, Leeroy had opted to darken the environment by turning off all lights, which went a long way in shrouding the device in partial darkness, making it hard to notice unless one truly squinted their eyes in the given direction for more than a few seconds. Illumination of the area relied on that of the almost setting sun, rapidly reducing in luminance, that came through from the single row of windows by the top of the walls on three of four sides, perpendicular to the ceiling. ​ ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​

 

[Unconscious]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "You awoke feeling so profound, bliss and devastation share hallowed ground." ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​ Greeted first in darkness only cut by the ever diminishing light from the windows, the shower rooms held an ominous air, but Cleo had stepped in regardless, footsteps shuffling until the door swung shut behind her. Eyes having only adjusted to the darkness, Cleo took a step back upon seeing his approach. She had been prepared more for a day like the one before; bracing, biting back whatever sound of pleasure pain that threatened to escape, and then promptly being dismissed as if nothing had really happened. As if she were merely an afterthought. What she didn’t expect was the moment nervousness overcame her and her foot shifted back once more in retreat, was for her to be jerked to a halt. A tug at her hips instinctively had her hands trying to shove at his hands, fingers briefly wrapping Leeroy’s wrists as they tore her panties in a single motion only to slip away as they were thrown to the side. Not a single sound of surprise left her but there were two conflicting emotions that were simultaneous in those moments as her fingers clutched the hem of her skirt - indignation and resignation. Of the two, the former had won if only for a moment, but it was a long enough moment that Cleo couldn’t fully stop the visceral reaction that had been dragged out of her. “What the fuck - are you kidding?” Immediately her hand clapped over her mouth and Cleo visibly grimaced. Even if she was appalled at the fact that not one, but three pairs of her undergarments were now going to be in the garbage, she shouldn’t have let it slip. Even if they were new, or her favorite, or that she was now down three days worth of panties in 24 hours. Cleo should have swallowed those disrespectful little words, especially considering just who she was speaking to, as unknowing as she was of his untoward plans for her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that..” Though she was highly doubtful that Leeroy would let it slide, Cleo had to at least verbalize an apology even to his retreating back. She knew better, but it seemed her mouth had a completely different idea. Already imagining how she was in fact digging herself into an even deeper hole and dumping dirt back over it with her entire future inside, Cleo bent to pick up her now shredded undergarments. Tossing them closer to the door, her off-the-shoulder blouse and skirt followed along with the rest of her outfit - socks, shoes, and belt. Did she have an attitude issue now? Even when she was angry, Cleo had never reacted as instinctively to something that she considered unfair as she had upon his actions. Was she finally fed up? Was it because she spent her own money on those? Was it pent-up anger? Frustration at being told what to do? Even the possibility of sexual frustration was on her radar at that point as she tried to reason herself through her reaction. Finally, the exposed young woman sighed and turned, arms wrapped around her torso in an attempt to cover at least some of her modesty. She was thankful for at least a small bit of shadow Leeroy had afforded her, though the windows were doing their damndest to prevent it. At first, Cleo hesitated, indecision clear on her face, but before long she was almost cautious in the movements that brought her closer to him. She thought that she’d done nothing wrong - except for that little kerfuffle she had just committed - but in her memories Leeroy had been so fickle with everything she did that Cleo was suddenly certain that she had something to apologize for. That, whatever it was that Cleo had somehow done, she was going to give him the apology he wanted, whether she wanted to or not. Just like that, heart-pounding and limb-weakening adrenaline sang through her every cell, those butterflies she fought so hard to ignore over the last day settling once more in her lower stomach to urge her slowly forward. Slowly enough not to seem eager, but quickly enough that Cleo certainly wasn’t happy about what she unwillingly felt in Leeroy’s presence. With eyes trained on his form as if unable to look away, she finally passed Leeroy to enter into the shower stall, spinning to back the rest of the way in. One hand traced along the tile so she knew exactly where it was and she wouldn’t accidentally let the coolness of it touch her. Satisfied that she was a sufficient distance from the cold tiles that she wouldn’t freeze, Cleo returned her hand, arms crossing over her bust. “So,” She began, pausing for a moment as she mulled over the wording. “What did I do wrong today, Sir?” There was a fraction of spite mixed in there, as if having time away had let her mind steady itself, though she was still almost entirely unwilling to challenge his instruction ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​

 

[Keith Logan]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "I crave the darkness in you, for it is where I feel most alive." ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​ "What the fuck - are you kidding?" Leeroy shifted his gaze onto hers. He did not speak a word. But his eyes looked as if they were already chastising her. The silence from him was deafening. Yet, there was a sense that he was waiting on something - perhaps giving a window of opportunity for Cleo to correct herself. After all, it had only been a day since she was dragged back into their normality from the old times. Leeroy was simply being gracious by allowing her some time to get herself back up to speed. Plus, he genuinely felt a bit like a father who was getting tired of his daughter misbehaving, yet again, resulting in some sort of a reaction fatigue. In times like this, he personally felt that the death stare served as the most effortless, yet effective form of threat. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that.." And Leeroy was right. It forced her to reconsider her words, and subsequently apologised. That gave him confidence that he was starting to have a substantial amount of his figurative tendrils, latched into her. She was learning, fast. Leeroy watched her with keen eyes, left shoulder leaning against the long end of one of the tiled concrete wall partition, arms folded. The previous night was but an appetiser; her bare, clean rear was a sumptuous treat. This evening however, one could see his eyes truly focused and dilated, as they feasted on Cleo's flawlessly exquisite feminine features. She was ample busty, yet still pleasingly proportionate to her entire figure. Her thighs and limbs looked toned, plausibly the work of some disciplined physical workout routine, of which the effects of it could also be seen on her taut stomach. Her god damn hourglass curves accentuated by her broader childbearing hips, were begging for a pair of man's hand to hold on tight to her lissome figure with a vice grip. And that ass of hers, now that he could see them in their complete unobstructed glory, they looked perky and firmly defined. "I'm saying this for the first and last time. Stop covering yourself up." "A body so fine like yours do not deserve to be clothed up, nor be hidden from view, at all." "I'd be so proud to showoff my Bunlet's body to the world." "Plus, I don't like that you are denying your Sir of his viewing pleasure by denying your body to him." Her defiance was what particularly irked Leeroy. Cleo had always been that sweet, sweet girl for everyone, except to him. She possessed the heart of gold, always able to gather enough grace to forgive anyone who had trespassed against her. Yet, when it came to him, he wasn't afforded the same. He felt targeted, that it was all unfair. Granted, he had always been seriously pushing her limits, and probably didn't deserve her care for all his maltreatment of her over the years. But the emotionally clouded young man who had a penchant for self-entitlement refused to put the blame so much on himself, but to force his way into her social circle through his iron handed means. For what he wanted, he always eventually got them, one way or another. He watched her slip her way into the cubicle, before casually shifted himself to stand by the entrance into the cubicle, in time to see her pirouette around to meet him. "So," "What did I do wrong today, Sir?" Leeroy did not immediately respond. Instead, he began to lift his shirt to have it tossed behind him. Then, his pair of upper thigh high running shorts came off, toes nimbly shafting it back behind him once it dropped down to his ankles, with no sign of an underwear beneath, as she was acquainted to his preferred form of casual wear, at least in the confines of the dormitory. There, stood in front of Cleo, was the majestic sight of a proper bull's physique. It didn't come as much of a surprise, considering that he was a quarterback for most of his sporting life. He had a distinct cleavage even for a guy, not because he had fleshy man boobs, but that his chest was bulging rock solid. His washboard abdominals were clearly divided into eight distinct compartments, elevated enough for every dip and dent between muscle patches to form a shadow from whatever illumination that was left to spare from the setting sun. His thighs were like stumpy tree trunks, as with his biceps that were shaped and hardened like the same oval balls that he dealt with in football. Leeroy was a walking muscle mess of monstrosity. And then there was that unavoidable feature that epitomised his manhood. He was actually flaccid. But it didn't look flaccid at all. About a six and a half inches long at rest, it was already thick and veiny. It might be hanging down against gravity. Yet, the sheer size of his dense muscular, sinewy rod looked like it could already penetrate even in its limp form. Leeroy then walked in, grabbing her two wrists to yank them away from her body, despite having only just warned her of his demand only moments ago. "This, is what you did wrong." The man then side stepped her to get behind. He first turned on the tap to the showers. Immediately, icy cold water gushed down onto their bodies. The decades old heaters typically needed a few minutes to warm up. Sometimes, they could get temperamental and decide not to work for that day. The College could not be arsed to fix the amenities of a building that they intend to raze in a year or two. Cleo's only solace, was from the ironic warmth of Leeroy's body, as seconds later, he spooned her from behind, engulfing her body into his bearish, heated embrace. Their bodies stood right beneath a large circular rain shower with a wide enough width to contain most of their two bodies within its pelting reach, waters falling vertically from right above them. In this position, the front of her nude form resting against the bigger man could be captured from the video camera by the opposite cubicle. "But this wrong is not what I am concerned about." He paused, his hands immediately reaching up to give her bosoms furious fondles. "Last night's grievous offence however, is." His fingers suddenly began to pinch and yank her twin buds with unforgiving force, as if he was channeling his simmering anger onto them. "Do you remember your vows, Bunlet? Always for Sir, and ever shall be." Leeroy then abruptly cupped his left hand around her neck to lock in a tight grip, using it to pull her back until her cranium rested against his collar bone. He lowered his lips nearer to her ear. His ensuing whisper, a low ominous growl. "Was it your boyfriend that you were talking to, last night?" The brute started grinding his slowly hardening cock between her thighs, sandwiching and sliding his rod further and further in until it nested like a hot dog. "The cheek of you to whore out your body to someone else other than me." Then, out of nowhere, his semi erection found its way to her sacred entrance, and began shallow thrusting, sparing her no more than an inch each push in, promising, but more frustratingly under delivering. "Is he going to be an issue for us moving forward?" ​ ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​

 

[Unconscious]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "You awoke feeling so profound, bliss and devastation share hallowed ground." ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​ “I’m saying this for the first and last time. Stop covering yourself up.” She hoped he would let it go. Oh, how she wished, but somehow, Cleo knew. Her only real response, even as she passed him to enter the cubicle, was to shift her arms only slightly downward, a distinct lack of confidence when so blatantly stared at stopping the nervous young woman from letting her arms drop to her sides. “A body so fine like yours does not deserve to be clothed up, nor be hidden from view, at all.” “I’d be so proud to show off my Bunlet’s body to the world.” “Plus, I don’t like that you are denying your Sir of his viewing pleasure by denying your body to him.” “Well, I don’t want the entire world to see my naked body. It’s already bad enough with you looking at me like that right now, so…” Even as she said that in the tiniest voice she could muster, the shield that was her arms inched ever lower on her body though they remained wrapped around her. They were folded under her breasts, left palm pressed flat over the curve of her right side. She was giving in ever so slowly, his blatant compliments doing their work. Of course, Cleo worked as well as she could with what she had specifically so someone like Leeroy wouldn’t ever be able to call her scarecrow ever again, but the fact that the man himself appreciated the work she put into herself was…exhilarating. He tickled her pride in a completely unexpected way that also threatened to flush her cheeks. Louder now, she vocalized her wonder at what she’d done wrong. It was the least he could do to tell her, right? It wasn’t like Cleo could fix whatever wrong she committed if she didn’t know, right? Even through all of this, her eyes remained steadily on Leeroy’s form in the sluggishly growing darkness. To say that Cleo was perplexed when Leeroy’s seemingly sudden undressing would be a severe understatement, though she chided herself for the thought. They were in the showers for God's Sake. To remain fully clothed in such a place would be ridiculous. What truly bewildered the young woman was more, she told herself, the fact that it was him in front of her. It was not the fact that the mere sight of him made her mouth both go dry and moisten at the same time. Not the fact that those damned butterflies fluttered violently in her stomach like moths over an ever growing flame. Never would someone get her to admit that her abruptly wide eyes had followed every little trail of skin, every detail that had been revealed to her, tracing almost reverently along each dip, dint and curve of Leeroy’s chest, waist, thighs - Belatedly realizing what she was doing when his shorts slipped away as well, Cleo lifted her gaze to the ceiling as her tongue traced over her teeth, blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear the vision that was trying to burn itself into her mind. She didn’t know if she should’ve started praying or should have already condemned herself for ever letting herself appreciate the sculpted exquisiteness of the very man that caused her such harrowing misery. Hell, Cleo had already gotten a glimpse of the admittedly frightening shaft, albeit covered by cloth, just the night before. And she had to do way too much to keep her thoughts from traveling straight back to it. Her eyes, too. The urge was far too present for her to even think of returning them to him. Cleo became too focused on not looking at him that she let herself forget to watch; her arms were suddenly yanked away from her body and she almost jerked backwards, instead returning her attention back to Leeroy even as the very arms that shielded her were cautiously lowered to her sides, fingers clenched. She only had a moment of him reiterating not to cover her curves as he passed, and then the young woman shrieked, shoulders lifting nearly to her ears as her head tipped down as if to hide from the frigid water that threatened to numb her skin so suddenly that it was a smidge painful. Then, a trembling sigh emanated from her lips as Leeroy’s warmth enveloped her soon shivering figure and she even pressed back, sinking against his chest. For shelter from the cold, Cleo had promptly and instinctively sought him out for safety. For someone who enjoyed scalding hot showers, Cleo hated being cold to the point that she was constantly in a heavy debate with herself whether or not to just give in and look like a giant cotton ball whenever the weather changed for the worst. “P--” Even just a single word was hard to force out as her teeth clenched. Not like it mattered anyway - it took far more focus to zero in on his voice when he spoke just as she was to ask him to turn off the freezing water. “But this wrong is not what I am concerned about.” Cleo only let loose a chattering protest when his hands - such deliciously warm hands - found the pillowy flesh of her breasts, her own hands coming up to try and remove them. “Last night’s grievous offence however, is.” Cleo squirmed when that aggressive touch had turned into more, the chill of the water making her skin sensitive and nigh tender especially when his fingers viciously tweaked her now pert nipples. “Wai -- Stop - I did as you said! I didn’t -” She didn’t… what? Touch herself? Something that should have been easy for her? Why was she so willing to admit that to him as if mere self-control was something to be proud of when she never should have had the urge in the first place? “Do you remember your vows, Bunlet? Always for Sir, and ever shall be.” “You won’t let me forget …” Her head found itself tipped back, pressure on her throat and breath catching as his hand closed itself around her skin. Cleo’s mind instantly reeled, circling itself over and over again as she asked herself why he would ask such a thing. Asking herself why he would get so angry - because that was absolutely how she perceived this treatment - over her vows. Her voice strained and tone meek, both with the weight of his hand and her sudden uncertainty. “But I - I don’t know what you -” “Was it your boyfriend that you were talking to, last night?” Her stomach dropped and her body somehow ran even colder than the bitter water. How Cleo hadn’t flinched away from his menacing question - his foreboding whisper - she had no clue, but her mouth clamped shut, throat moving as she swallowed against his grip. When she felt a shift not of his weight but of something thicker and far more perilous to her cognitive wellbeing between her thighs, she had half the mind to clench them together, but the mere possibility of catching more of his ire prevented the action. The nails of her right hand dug into the muscles of his left forearm as she suddenly gripped it. The only sound that she made was a pleading whimper through closed lips even when the thought of Leeroy’s frightfully monstrous cock threatening to stroke against the very core of her had Cleo’s hips wanting so suddenly - so desperately - to grind against him that it made her dizzy. Cleo didn’t feel as cold, though she certainly felt every inch of Leeroy that pressed against her, threatening to make her shudder and her body weaken. Even the mental and physical pain both had somehow begun to make her senses trill with fervent desire. For a moment, she was thankful for the water, foolishly convincing herself that he wouldn’t feel her becoming wet in the most unethical way for him. “The cheek of you to whore out your body to someone else other than me.” The weighted I’m sorry nearly escaped, and would have, if not for his hand cutting her off and making her think. And, of course, the sudden feeling of the beast that had been poorly hidden from her sight the night before pressing, nudging - leisurely prodding the most intimate parts of her. With the only inch that was afforded, Cleo’s body responded as wholly and against her will as it could, clenching thirstily around the single speck of repeated teasing. It seemed to hint at such a pleasurably painful fullness without properly giving her anything. As if going to a buffet and only being allowed to scent the air. “Is he going to be an issue for us moving forward?” Her mind didn’t even get the chance to think of a snarky reply as her head instantly shook from side to side, the motion so minute that, had she not been completely pressed against him, Leeroy might have missed it. Everything about her body betrayed her, Cleo’s eyes welling with tears with that realization. Her emotions were so mixed that she couldn’t tell if she just wanted him to get it over with and take claim of her and everything she was, if she was afraid of him, if she was afraid of losing Sam, or… the fact that she might just be willing to lose him for all the horrible and wonderful things that were being silently promised to her in those moments. Finally: “You want him gone, then? Because -” Her tone was melodic as if placating a feral beast, while at the same time cautious, tongue slipping out to wet her lips as she whispered. “..Why?” Why, indeed. She was certain before that it wouldn’t have mattered to him if she’d chosen someone to give herself to, that he’d still do whatever he liked, regardless of the consequences, but with that single thought it was as every bit of defiance melted away. Someone to give herself to. For the longest time Cleo knew him as someone who claimed her. Whether it be as a toy to cure his boredom or as some kind of pet to do whatever his fickle desires so chose. She, undoubtedly, forever was and will be his. As much as she hoped, Cleo wasn’t sure anymore if he would ever let her go - let her free of that collar and chain that tied her so sweetly to his side. ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​

 

[Keith Logan]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "I crave the darkness in you, for it is where I feel most alive." ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​ "Well, I don't want the entire world to see my naked body. It's already bad enough with you looking at me like that right now, so…" Leeroy heaved a deep breath, taking three full seconds to do so, before he spoke. "It is not about you want, but what I want." He paused, one hand reaching up to his mouth to give it a palming swipe downwards. "But if you make me happy, and show me that you deserve to have some of your petitions heard, I may consider your concerns." "As it stands though, your misbehaviour is annoying the fuck out of me." Leeroy soon followed her into the cubicle, eager to reinstate the vanishing sight of her figure back into his field of vision, simply because the eye candy was too good to be missed. He stripped in her presence, so close, every delectable muscle dunes and valleys of him could be seen in crystal clear definition. "And, tell me why it is actually bad enough with me looking at you? Afraid maybe, that you'll soon be finding yourself trickling down your thighs like you so easily leaked the evening before, from being spanked?" Leeroy very casually, and bluntly reminded her of the wetness that he had been able to churn from her, so much so that her puffed up lips were unable to sponge up any more of her nectar, but to let it all out on a free flow. "Is it bad that, all that is happening to you, is turning you on?" The young man was clearly turning up the heat, finding delight in forcing Cleo to confront her reality and her inner demons. One could count on Leeroy to milk the most of an opportunity to humiliate his victim. The bull hadn't gone on to elaborate. But he had noticed the way her eyes roamed across the landscape of his figure in a way that betrayed any notion of her anxiety, about the situation that she might be feeling. Evidently, indulging her eyes over his well-chiseled body had brought her comfort and ease, and distracted her from the crux of the issue. His body was apparently more interesting than whatever concerns she might be thinking. And it certainly went a long way in stroking his ego tender, sensing that the girl was drawn to him in that manner. He felt like a white knight when he heard the audible coo of a sigh slipping pass her lips when he embraced her from behind, shortly after the icy waters began gushing down on them. He wasn't particularly fond of the cold waters either. But her body was all that it took for him to be able to take his mind off the cold discomfort. Leeroy looked totally unfazed by the resemblance of winter rain pouring upon their melded bodies as he embraced her tight. The irony of the scene, was that for a good quarter minute of silent indulgence, to the shifty movements of his palms and fingers along her various erogenous regions, Leeroy showed a side of him that he was capable of guarding her fragile and delicate form with chivalrous gusto. The touch of his hands and fingers served as figurative flame, lighting up her body as he provided the resources for her to battle against the relentless chill assaulting them from above. That resulted in an experiential simultaneous hot and cold that Cleo was made to feel at the same time. She was like the sun, boiling from within, whilst the deathly chill of empty space perpetually grazed against the surface of her. Leeroy had to guide Cleo towards deriving to the eventual conclusion as to why he was agitated with her. He was partially inclined to believe that she was trying to feign innocence. Then again, she seemed genuinely clueless. Perhaps, the maddening tension along with the cold had impaired her capacity to make smarter inferences. But it was only day two. He had to remind himself to be just a little bit more patient with her refresher. He did account for her implicit admission of guilt, through the grip and the digging of her nails into his wrist, and how despite her apparent show of detest for him, that he could actually feel her grinding herself like quite the eager bunny against the prodding tip of his protrusion. He could sense her primitive desire taking control of her body, for the second time in two days. Pleasure, Leeroy, Pleasure Leeroy. It was his goal to brainwash her like he'd done before. Only this time, he was going to condition her to associate otherworldly euphoria, with him, and only him. "You want him gone, then? Because -" "..Why?" He didn't immediately reply. Instead, he devoured her neck like a thirsted bloodsucker, and his hands felt like claws, pawing away like a bear attempting to swipe her boobs for the promised honey that laid within. Half a minute of almost behaving like a savage carnivore, he shoved her body against the cold, wet tiles, as her form got sandwiched between hardened ceramic and torso. Then, without warning, Leeroy plunged his shaft all the way deep into the deepest end of her crux. He was bloody well endowed, girthy and lengthy at the same time. Yet, he seemed to have fit in nicely into the mold of her love canal, long enough to contain him whole. His bulbous head could be felt pressing against the gates of her cervix firmly, with the base of his shaft caressing her clits in clean contact. "Mmmhh." "Do you feel it, Kitty?" "Do you feel how your pussy sheaths my cock so perfectly?" "We're a fated match, if you can't already see it." With that, Leeroy began to pick up a steady pace, thrusting in crescendo. He pulled back a little to set her on an arch, and yanked a hand back to demand that she confront his gaze. "You like to ask questions, don't you? My turn then." "Why is your cunt so slick right now, and allowing my dick through so seamlessly?" In little time, the strength and speed of his thrust gradually built up towards a road drill pounding at max speed five, whilst he actively controlled the angle of every plunge, wordlessly shifting and testing to see which inserting position from a three dimensional space would draw the most explosive reaction out of her, as he worked to chart down the map and ways of his toy's body. "Mmmh! Have your boyfriend fucked you as thoroughly as I'm doing you now before?" "Who does you better?" "Nnngghh!" Leeroy reached out to her cheeks and gripped her face on a tight V-grip to have her eyes locked directly at him, clamping down hard with evident fire in his eyes. "Who is the only man who is allowed you fuck you from this day on?" "Answer me!" ​ ‎⋅‎ ‎──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────── ⋅​