“You’ve known me for what, forty-eight hours now? How can this be odd? You don’t even know what odd is for me yet.” I’m fully aware that my words came out sharp and bitchy, but if it shuts him up, then I don’t care.
“Point taken. Dinner will be ready soon.” He doesn’t spare me a glance as he turns and walks towards the kitchen. I shut my door and lean up against the back of it. My head drops back against the wood, while my bag slips from my shoulders.
Once my heartbeat is back to its normal rhythm, I rummage through my boxes in search of a pair of loose shorts and a T-shirt that I quickly change into. The clothes are old and overworn, with frayed seams and the shirt having small holes adorning one shoulder. Admittedly this is one of my favorite comfort outfits, so I refuse to part with it, despite how grungy it looks. I debate on changing into something else, but the thought of looking unappealing to Kole floats through my mind and brings a smile to my face. Holding my head high, I exit my bedroom, heading towards the fancy-ass kitchen. The smell coming from it makes my stomach rumble with anticipation. Kole’s back is to me as he adds chicken and other things to two plates in front of him. I can’t see anything else with his body in the way, but how could it really be? I take my seat at the island, picking up one of the glasses of water that’s already sitting there and chugging it. Kole finally turns around with two full plates in his hand, setting one in front of me and then another one off to the right, before he grabs my empty water glass and refills it.
I pick up my fork that he laid next to the plate, eager to dig in, but stop immediately at the offending green stuff on my plate. Next to the baked chicken is a steaming pile of spinach. My stomach rolls with the smell and the look of the green mush. Setting my fork down, I hop off my chair in search of another side to pair with the chicken instead of what’s currently staring me down on my plate.
“What are you doing?” Kole’s questioning voice rings through the space. He looks at me, then my plate, then back at me again, scrutinizing me as I pluck a single serving of kraft from the cabinet. “You have food on your plate, Sloane.” Hesays sternly, pointing at my plate, making me feel like a petulant child.
“I appreciate you making dinner, but I don’t like spinach. I’ll eat the chicken and this instead.” I hold up the cup of Kraft and turn towards the sink to fill it with water. As my hand reaches for the faucet, the cup is knocked out of my hands, and noodles clatter into the sink below.
“I don’t think so. You’re not putting that shit in your body. Not when there’s healthy food on your plate.” His voice drops an octave as he towers over me, his eyes stern and menacing.
I take a few deep breaths before I look up at him. “I’m not a child, Kole. I can feed myself.” I turn back towards the cabinet to grab another Kraft Single, but he grabs me around the waist and pushes me up against the counter. The marble digging into my lower back, with his arms caging me in, and his eyes glaring down at me.
“Do you have any idea how many preservatives and nasty shit are in that crap?” His words are spoken in a growl, making nerves skitter down my spine.
“U-Uh yeah, b-but I’m still a-alive.” The words leave me in a stuttering mess, my hands trembling while I clutch them against my chest.
“While you’re living undermyroof, you’ll eat what I give you. Do you understand?” I just stare up at him with my mouth hanging open in shock, because who does he think he is to order me around like this? “You better shut that pretty mouth before I fill it with something other than food.” Lust swirls around the anger in his gaze as he stares at me and my mouth slams shut with a click. “I asked you a question, Sloane.” My mind completely blanks on what he even asked me so I decide to go with my gut on this one.
“I’m not a fucking child.” I push against his chest to get him to back off, my own anger rising in my chest. He stands tall, noteven budging from my assault. Kole grabs my swinging hands, gripping them in one fist while the other one goes straight to the apex of my thighs. The feeling of his warm hand against me is enough to stop my struggling.
“Trust me, Sloane, I’m fully aware that you’re not a child.” His hand grips my pussy tighter, the heel of his palm brushing against my clit, eliciting a squeak from me which has him smirking like mad. “You eat what I give you. I don’t give a fuck if you don’t like it. You won’t be ruining that perfect body of yours by stuffing it full of junk food.” He gives my pussy one last squeeze before walking towards the cabinet, filling his arms with every cup of Kraft I had up there, including the chocolate chip cookies, and tossing them all in the trash. I’m frozen in shock with his audacity, my mouth gaping open once again. Once he’s done ridding his cabinet of the perfectly fine food, he looks up at me and speeds towards me. I cower against the counter with a gasp, watching in slow motion as his fingers dive into my open lips. I gag around his thick fingers as he presses down against my tongue, his other hand going to the back of my head and twisting in my hair. “What did I say about this pretty mouth of yours?” I try to speak around his fingers, but it all comes out in a strained gurgle. Tears stream from my eyes while he leisurely fucks my mouth with his fingers until he’s satisfied. “Sit down and eat.” His words are growled into my tearful face.
With a sniffle, I hustle over to my spot at the island, immediately grabbing my fork and stabbing a piece of chicken with it. I add spinach to my bite, hoping like hell the taste of the chicken will drown out the dirty taste of the mushy, offending green leaves. I wipe the tears from my face with my other hand and shove the forkful into my mouth, chewing before swallowing. A sense of relief courses through me when I can barely taste the spinach. We both eat in awkward silence, although I can feel his eyes peeking over at me every fewseconds. Kole finishes his food well before I do, and he sits there messing with his phone, waiting for me to finish. Once I shove the last bite in my mouth and swallow, he’s there grabbing my dirty dishes and setting them in the sink.
I say a tense goodnight and thank you for dinner before bolting to my room. Shutting the door and locking it three times, then grabbing my laptop and climbing into bed. My laptop powers on, and I waste no time opening up the internet and typing in questions, hoping somewhere will have an answer for Kole’s actions.Why does my roommate not want me to eat junk food? Why did my roommate sneak into my room while I was sleeping? Why is my roommate so obsessed with me?
After almost an hour of searching and reading through Reddit threads, my last question comes back with a few actually helpful hits. I read through them all, soaking up any information that I can find. Eventually I come across a forum on a psychiatric page about Obsessive Love Disorder. The name makes my skin crawl, and the farther I read the page, the more terrified I get as the symptoms continue to match up with Kole’s actions. Hours pass, my eyes dry from staring at a computer screen for so long. For some reason I thought the more I read, the more ridiculous it would all sound. However, it turned out to be the opposite. My fear is palpable as I shut down my laptop and triple-check that the door is in fact locked. I debate on blocking the door with the dresser just to be safe, but decide that’s overkill. I pick out my clothes for the next day, a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt, setting them inside of the bathroom for the morning. It takes me a while to fall asleep with all my worries spiraling around inside of my head, but when my eyes finally close, I float easily into oblivion.
Iwatched Sloane’s fleeing form as she ran from the kitchen, her holy shirt flapping behind her, and the sound of her feet padding quickly down the hallway until her bedroom door slams. When she walked into the kitchen dressed in that horrendous outfit, I nearly burst a blood vessel with the incessant need to fix her. No girl of mine will be seen in ratty clothing like that. I let out a scoff before turning around to finish washing the dishes. Irritation rises in me with the lack of respect she gave me this evening. Refusing to eat what I provided aswell as not even sparing me a glance when she rushed from the room. My hands clench the soapy sponge, rubbing it against the dirty plate while I contemplate what to do. I was disgusted when she wanted Kraft Mac & Cheese over the healthy dinner I slaved over. A dinner that was meant tonourishher body and notdestroyit like that other vile concoction would have done. Her lack of gratefulness made the anger rise in my chest once again.
I’m giving her a place to stay, at dirt cheap at that, so the least she can do is oblige me when I give her something. The memory of the look on her face as she told me no has my cock rising in my sweats. The plate slips from my hands, clattering into the bottom of the sink. My fingers reach to grab it, and I notice the slickness of the lathered-up soap on my hands. The feeling is warm and silky, just like her tongue felt against my fingers as I plunged them inside of her. My mind floats off to think of how it would feel if it was my cock next time while I thrust deep into her throat, cutting off her air. Her whimpers and cries would be bouncing off the walls while she begged for a mercy she wouldn’t get. I would possess her mind and body; I’d be all that she could think about and all she couldtaste. A slow smile spreads across my face as I finish up the dishes, my plan slotting itself into place, and my cock eager for release
I pad down the hallway towards Sloane’s room, leaning my ear up against the door, listening for any kind of movement beyond, and come back with nothing. Slowly I pick the lock, cracking the door open a smidge to check that she’s sleeping soundly in her bed. Her chest moves slowly with her steady breathing, and she’s once again splayed out on the bed like last night. She ditched the shorts from earlier sleeping in only a pair of small pink panties that barely leave anything to desire, and her holy shirt rucked up under her breasts. Silent steps take me to her desk, where I swipe up her laptop and head straight to her browser history, shaking my head when I see that she hasn’tevercleared it. Scrolling down I find her last opened page, my brows furrowing when I see what it is. Clicking on it brings up the psych forum she was in, asking several different questions, looking for answers she shouldn’t have been looking for in the first place. The more I read, the more my anger rises in my chest, and my hands clench around the laptop, the plastic creaking from the force. Closing the laptop, I set it soundlessly back onto her desk and swing my head towards Sloane, blissfully unaware of the building anger in my chest. I stalk towards the side of the bed, gazing down at her motionless form. Hands clenched at my side, itching to wrap around her delicate throat and feel her take her last breath.
Silent fingers drift down, swiping along the column of her thin neck. Her pulse bumps softly under my fingertips like a hummingbird's wings. She’s lost in her slumber, afloat in her dream world, completely unaware of the danger lurking beside her. Fingers wrapping lightly around her throat, causing her breath to hitch at the pressure, but she still sleeps all the same. My hand falls from her throat, fingers reaching to run through her silky tresses that are splayed around her like a halo.
She's absolutely perfect when she's sleeping; quiet and ready for me to do whatever I want with her. I slide my phone from my pocket, eager to capture her in her eternal perfection. Sloane sleeps soundlessly as I snap photo after photo of her from different angles. The last one contains my hand lying loosely around her neck. When my thumb starts to ache from all the photos I’ve taken, I decide that it’s time to quit. Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I walk over to her bathroom, checking back just to make sure she’s still snoozing away. I close the door softly behind me before flipping on the light. The sudden burst of brightness burns my eyes, making my vision blur temporarily. I pull a pad of sticky notes from my pocket and a pen that I grabbed on my way to her room. Thinkingfor a moment before smirking and scrawling the words floating through my head onto the paper.
I know what your pulse feels like when you’re lost in your dreams, oblivious to the dangers lurking in the dark. You’re the most perfect obsession I’ve ever had.
I smile down at the words scratched along the pale yellow paper before peeling it off and placing it on the mirror before me. Laying my hand down on the glass next to it, I leave a very distinct handprint behind. I reach for the light switch to plunge myself back into darkness, but something in my peripheral vision distracts me. A stack of clothes sits on the corner of the counter, folded haphazardly, making my fingers twitch. My fingers reach for the clothing on their own accord, picking up the shirt to refold it, but the ugly brown shirt is so offensive I crumble it into a ball instead. Picking up the jeans, that aren’t much better, there are holes carved into each knee like a scarful memory of how they got there. I drop the garments and clutch the edge of the counter, staring at the clothing I wish I could destroy. A slow smile spreads across my lips as I pick up the shirt again and rip it right down the center like it’s a piece of paper. Next, I grab the jeans on both sides of the holey knees and rip, completely shredding the fabric.
A light chuckle escapes my lips while I drop the destroyed clothing back onto the counter before flipping the light off and moving back into the bedroom. I head straight to her dresser, rooting through it to find a much better outfit for her to wear. I find a floral tunic and a pair of simple black leggings; I fold them neatly, then return to the bathroom to place them where the previous pair was. Before exiting the bathroom, I hit somethingsoft with my foot. Leaning down, I pick it up and bring it closer to my face to inspect, and what I hold in my hands is what I've decided to call a gift. Sloane left a pair of her dirty panties on the floor just for me, maybe as payment for fixing her wardrobe malfunction. I bury my nose in the silky fabric, and her scent invades my senses, musky and sweet all at once, the scent going straight to my cock. I grip them tight in my hands and look over at the sleeping girl sprawled in her bed, completely unaware of the obsession that continues to fester inside me. I slip out of her bedroom like a ghost into the night as I head back to my own room.
The ear-piercing scream from the frail blonde strapped down to the table ricochets off the concrete walls, making my cock swell in my scrubs. Dr. Halstead invited me to oversee the new treatment he came up with forNymphomania. I was skeptical at first, but when he laid out every detail, and the science all added up, it was a no-brainer in my opinion. Kind of harsh, but sounds pretty effective. He mainly wanted to show me the care process so that none of the other nurses would screw it up, but I asked to see the entire thing, because why not? The woman's back arches up off the table as Dr. Halstead makes the last cut with his scalpel, holding his prize up to the light to inspect. The woman's red and angry clit dangles from a pair of forceps, dripping blood down onto her abdomen. It truly is a beautiful sight, the red splotches artfully scattered across her naked skin while it trembles with fear. Her sobs go right to my dick and I letout a low groan, catching the doctor's attention. He looks over at me with a sadistic smile and waves me to come closer.
“Now do you understand? She won’t be thinking with this little nub anymore and will keep her legs closed now. Won’t you, Sadie?” He clucks his tongue at her before reaching over and dropping her mangled piece of flesh into the biohazard bin. The girl is in hysterics when he picks up a needle and thread to close the jagged flesh up. I reach down and adjust my erection in my pants, watching the needle pierce through each layer of her skin and muscle, effectively stopping the bleeding. When Dr. Halstead is done, he tosses the needle and remaining thread, giving me a smile full of enthusiasm. “Well, you might as well have some fun before I send Karen in to clean her up.” He wags his brows at me which has my own hitching in confusion.
“I thought you wanted me to clean her up?” I ask with skepticism.
“Oh God no!” He lets out a deep chuckle before continuing, “I just invited you in here for the show. Enjoy her while you can.” With those final words, he walks out the door without a second glance, leaving me alone in the room with the helpless woman.
“P-p-please…” Her words come out choppy as she sobs and trembles.
“Please what? Sew it back on? Sorry, but it doesn’t work that way, sweetheart.” I lean over and pat the top of her head, running my fingers through her sweaty hair before trailing them down her slick body. My fingers glide through the blood splattered on her abdomen like it’s the finest wine. “So beautiful…” I say as I lift my blood-coated fingers up to the light, watching as they shine like rubies in the bright light. The woman looks at me in horror, contrasting with the euphoria on my own face. I waste no more time admiring the blood splatter while I leap up onto the table between her spread legs. Tugging myscrubs down, I pull out my hard cock, which bounces up against my abs.
