Jan. Week 2: Monday: SRO--Leah insists on getting it over with quickly. (Luck:+20)

“Well I only have so much planning period and unless you want people to start asking lots of questions—might be best if we just get on with this.” Leah crossed her arms defensively. They both knew that it could draw a lot of questions if Leah kept visiting him and he had things he needed to get done anyway.

“Gotta go see Mr. Howard during your planning too?” He mocked. She rolled her eyes. “Fine—just go ahead and get on your knees and we can make it quick this time.” he said, the words “this time” lingered in the air with the promise of all this happening again…and again.

Officer Roberts, with a smirk that reeked of arrogance, leisurely unbuckled his belt and let his pants slip down to his ankles, as if such degradation were nothing more than an everyday inconvenience—like handing out a parking ticket. His nonchalance bristled Leah’s skin; the casualness with which he turned their trysts into grotesque ritual never ceased to disgust her. Yet here she was, on her knees again, trapped within this twisted cat-and-mouse game they played. She let out a sigh heavy with the weight of resentment and reminded herself of the delicate web of lies that had ensnared her life.

As she settled into position on the cold linoleum floor, she threw him a look as sharp as glass.

“This is all so fucked up. You better just keep up your end of the bargin.” Her voice was full with bitterness.

He chuckled softly, a vile sound like oil bubbling in a pan. He looked down at her with predatory eyes alight with amusement, savoring her defiance and holding it over her like a trophy.

“You’re in no position to make demands, darling,” he chided smugly. It was all part of the power play—the dance of dominance he loved to lead.

Leah’s glare could have melted steel as she pressed her lips into a thin line. She knew resistance was futile; every protest only served to further gratify his sadistic pleasure. Like clockwork, she pushed past her loathing and sought refuge in numbness—her old ally in these moments of debasement.

Her mouth moved mechanically along his shaft—a task devoid of any real passion or desire. Her mind drifted somewhere far beyond the small confines of that dingy office while Roberts emitted a low groan of satisfaction, his head tilting back in triumph. The distasteful act felt endless, each minute stretching into eternity while she numbed herself to every sensation.

Leah’s head moved rhythmically, back and forth, meeting Roberts’ flesh time and time again with a mechanical precision that belied any semblance of enthusiasm. Her lips wrapped around him in an act she had repeated far too many times, turning this intimate act into a mindless routine. She felt a flicker of satisfaction that she was able to detach herself so utterly from the lewd scene unfolding—a skill honed through necessity.

Roberts could sense her lackluster effort; her disdain seeped through in every languid motion. His voice cut through the room with its usual smugness, laden with dark humor that made Leah's skin crawl.

"Jesus, you don’t suck Mr. Howard’s cock this bad I hope," he taunted, his eyes gleaming with cruel pleasure. "Suck my balls or something, or we might be here a while." His voice held the kind of authority that twisted Leah’s insides with anger.