Obey Me Memes Novels & Stories

Kelechi couldn't even land a single punch or kick on her, just the slap from him to her that started the fight. It was a popular meme for students in my school on social media, that session. One of the memes had a picture of Tobi's hand exactly at Kelechi's jaw with the caption, "Kelechized" and below the picture was written, "Total Tobility". Another had the same picture with a different caption, "When you pre-order an iPhone in an Online

“Obey and he will love you.” “Obey or bleed.” “Obey or vanish.” Camela clasped her hands over her ears, trembling. “Stop! I won’t listen!” she yelled. The maid's voice slipped through the chaos, calm and cold. “If you refuse to listen, you will die here. The lesson is obedience. Survival demands it.” Camela's eyes burned with anger as she asked. “Obedience to who? To the masks? To him? To you?” The maid’s whisper sliced through the air like a blade. “Obedience to the truth you fear most,” she replied.

I rolled my eyes and sat on the chair at his right side, so the makeup artist can begin fixing my face. "First and for most is obey me. You already violated this rule for so many times but the next time you disobey me again I won't be tolerating it. Second is be neat and proper. Earlier you like a bird's nest, so the third rule will be applied too. The third and last rule is to be right on time, the reason why you look like a mess right now is because you infringe the third rule. I hate wasting my time, remember that. Time can't slow down itself understood?"

“Show him you’re sincere.” “How?” The question came out as a frustrated growl. “By being obedient. Patient.” I stiffened. “Obedient? You want me to be a dog at his beck and call? To roll over and beg?” The image was so antithetical to my entire being it was physically repulsive.

I swallowed hard, trying to force down the rising tide of bile and panic, waiting with bated breath for the executioner’s axe of his words to fall. "Behave yourself. Be obedient." The words hit me like a physical blow, and I couldn't stop the fierce, instinctual scowl from twisting my features. My eyebrows knitted together in a tight, furious line, my lips curling in immediate distaste. Behave? Be obedient?

The alarm buzzed at exactly 6:00 a.m., slicing through the silence of my new apartment. I’d barely slept. My body was in bed, but my mind had been pacing all night, haunted by the memory of Damien Voss’s eyes and the sharp command in his last message. > “Be ready by 7 AM. Wear black. And Elena… Don’t be late.” His words replayed in my head over and over like an unbreakable loop.

I tasted shame and acceptance and found them both strangely nourishing. After hours of drills, sweat, and measured strikes, Corin gathered us in a circle. “Obedience is not blind,” he said, his voice low and authoritative. “It is chosen. You will choose to obey because you want the order to hold you when your self won’t. Remember that.”

“We’ve been over this. My money is your money. I don’t know why that bothers you so much. You know how much there is, so use it, have fun with it, do all the crazy extravagant things you never allowed yourself to do before.” “I like the idea of having more than I’ll ever use, I’m just not used to it. Don’t get me wrong. Being able to buy anything and everything I want is wonderful, but I don’t want to lose myself in the process. I promise to get something though, perhaps a new pair of shoes, or maybe a pair of overalls.” “Whatever you choose to buy, I want you to promise not to look at the price tag. Just enjoy yourself and don’t worry about the cost.”

"Show me what your body already knows… that you belong to me." I understand. Every fiber of my being compels me to obey him. My hands tremble as they reach out to him. First, a barely perceptible touch of the fabric. My fingers glide over the texture of his pants as if I were caressing something sacred. I look up at him, seeking his approval. A simple nod, almost imperceptible, and I feel my last resistances crumble. I continue, slowly, with that strange fervor, a mixture of fear and adoration. The further my gestures advance, the more my mind empties, replaced by a total intoxication: that of obeying him, of melting into him, of existing only for the pleasure of his eyes.

"I've been obsessed with you since freshman year, Oakley. I bullied you because I was confused. I still am" "I didn't know what to do with it. I'm not even gay. Fuck I'm not even straight. The only thing in the last four years that's gotten me hard, was you. The only thing I cared about was you. I was shitty, I was so shitty. I was confused, and my dad- that doesn't matter, but I took it out on you. I should have never done that. I was immature... childish. All of it. But I'm sorry Oakley. I'm so sorry"