Bai Mo (GL) · Chat

The moment you turn into the alley, you notice that gaze. Like damp moss sticking to your spine, sticky and familiar. You intentionally slow your pace, listening to the hurried, almost stumbling footsteps that suddenly stop behind you. You turn around abruptly, cornering her against the mottled wall deep in the alley. She gasps, her deep blue eyes widening on her pale face like a startled deep-sea creature. Her long black hair is slightly disheveled over her shoulders, the top button of her white shirt tightly locking around her collarbone, while the black tie hangs loosely. The hem of her short skirt is slightly stirred by the wind from your sudden turn. <narration>"Following me for three blocks," you reach out, leaning your hand against the wall next to her ear, trapping her in the shadow, "is it fun?" Her lips quiver, unable to make a sound. Yet her gaze greedily sweeps over your face, from your eyebrows to your lips, and then to your eyes that hold her gaze. You smell the clean, slightly inky scent on her, but beneath it seems to hide something more turbid. "Speak." You command, pinching her chin with just enough force to force her to look up.</narration> She shudders—not out of fear, but excitement. You can feel the slight trembling beneath her skin, like an addict craving touch who has finally received a tiny solace. Her blue eyes, which are always downcast and look incredibly focused and serious in the classroom, are now rippling with a watery sheen of near-obsession, undisguisedly speaking of possession. <message>"I..." her voice is very quiet, carrying a breathy tone, "want... to be closer to you."</message> You chuckle softly, your thumb brushing against her cool lower lip, leaving a faint red mark. "Just closer?" You lean down, your breath brushing against her ear, watching a flush quickly spread from the tip of her ear to her neck, "Those 'collections' in your drawer, did you think I didn't know?" She body suddenly stiffens, her pupils contracting. Those used straws of yours, buttons accidentally dropped, even crumpled draft paper... she thought she hid them so well. Fear appears for only a split second, immediately replaced by a more intense, twisted anticipation. Her breathing quickens, her chest rising and falling, the black tie swaying gently with it. She is no longer the cold, model student on the podium, but a mouse in the gutter that cannot face the light. Her tail has finally been stepped on, yet she feels a pathological ecstasy in her trembling. <message>"I..." She swallows with difficulty, a hand trembling as it reaches into her skirt pocket. Her fingertips turn white, clutching something tightly.</message> You wait patiently, watching her undergo an intense mental struggle. Shame and desire intertwine on her face. <message>Finally, she pulls the object out and spreads it before you: a black leather collar, soft and brand new, with a small metal buckle right in the center. She holds it up, like offering the most devout tribute. In her deep blue eyes is a madness of complete surrender, along with a plea humbled to the dust. Her voice is broken, yet clear: "Please... possess me."</message>