The Tutor
Chapter 10

Copyright© 2018 by Cotton Nightie

Young Adult Sex Story: Chapter 10 - Alicia Tucker is a hard-working college freshman. When an old babysitting client calls out of the blue, Alicia finds herself acting as the referee between two unruly teenage step-brothers. In the process of mentoring the young men, Alicia finds herself learning much more than she expected.

Caution: This Young Adult Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   mt/mt   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   NonConsensual   Gay   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Group Sex   White Male   White Female   Hispanic Male   Anal Sex   Analingus   Enema   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Teacher/Student  

The mood around campus on Monday morning had Alicia on edge. Just walking in from where Megan had parked made Alicia feel like everyone was staring at her. Objectively, it wasn’t true, yet the feeling of an imminent threat remained.

She had spent all day Sunday with Megan and Mom, trying to find normal again. There were brief moments when she was able to put the rape and fear of the upcoming hearing out of her mind. Then she’d smile and the bruise on her face would ache, stealing away her peace.

Alicia first headed up to her dorm room to get fresh clothes and her computer for class. Megan had promised to meet up before they headed out later to tutor the guys. After getting herself organized, Alicia gathered herself to face her English and Chemistry classes. She locked the dorm room door behind her and turned toward the elevator.

Everyone stared. Some of the students in her hallway looked at her with a nauseating pity. Others glared like she was the one who had done something wrong. The most painful look came from Rachel, the other girl Dillon had raped. She looked on with pride when she spotted Alicia, as if Alicia had done something worthwhile. The self-loathing and shame she’d pushed away, with Megan’s help, came rushing back when Rachel embraced her.

“Just remember, you’re not alone,” Rachel whispered in Alicia’s ear.

The words that had comforted her on Saturday morning were now agony. Nothing would change because of her actions. Dillon and his father would create a caricature of her to hold up for ridicule. No one would care that he’d forced his naked cock into some promiscuous college coed. She must have either asked for it or deserved it. Where there’s smoke there’s fire, after all. The negative thoughts spiraled until she had to swallow the bile in her throat.

Alicia forced herself to nod, but couldn’t meet Rachel’s eyes when they parted. She continued to the elevator and pressed the button to go down. The elevator took forever and was full of guys when the doors opened. Her mouth dried instantly.

It was odd to realize that she had never been afraid of men before. There had been scary late night walks across dark parking lots. Fighting off handsy guys in clubs had never been fun, but she couldn’t call what she’d felt fear. It was more like worry or annoyance than anything worse. Nothing could compare to the irrational dread that something horrible would happen if she got on the elevator.

After a dry swallow, she forced her feet to move and then turned her back to the guys standing in the elevator car. The doors slid closed. In the dull mirror finish, Alicia could see all the guys behind her checking her out. Their eyes lingered on her ass and then they smirked at each other with subtle nods. Her body began to tremble and she clutched her book bag tighter to her chest.

The stale, funky scent of unwashed male in the crowded space caught her attention. In an instant, she was back in Dillon’s room while her heart pounded. She had to squeeze her eyes and clamp her lips shut to prevent from mewling in terror. Taking tiny steps, she moved until the tips of her sneakers touched the door in front of her. She rested her forehead against the cool metal and tried to keep her breakfast down.

The elevator car jerked as it stopped, then the doors slid past Alicia’s toes. She hurried out the door, the pace keeping her ahead of the crowd of laughing guys following after her. The acrid taste of panic slicked her mouth until she made it to the bright morning sunlight. She moved with the students going to class, hiding in the crowds and flinching away from anyone who came too close.

Eventually, she made it to Colborn Hall and slipped into her English small group before the rest of the class. She wished it was a lecture day. Then she could hide from everyone in the large auditorium much easier than here. Instead of sitting in her usual spot at the front, she headed to the back of the classroom.

She pulled her laptop and dropped onto the desk. Her hair hung loosely around her face like a curtain as she brought up the curriculum app for the class. They would be discussing The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Alicia had studied the story in high school and hadn’t remembered to read it again before class.

She skimmed through the story while the class gathered. She hadn’t really appreciated the story back in high school. It seemed so archaic and dry. As she reviewed the story of Hester Prynne, it spoke to her now with fresh pain. Hester’s shame called to her own. But instead of a scarlet letter on her breast, Alicia wore a bruise on her cheek. Instead of being put in the stocks and shunned in the town square, Dillon’s father would soon hold her up for public ridicule on social media.

Sparks of anger bloomed as she focused on that injustice. She had done nothing wrong. There was nothing for her to be ashamed of. Alicia used her anger to fight the shame that continued to crush her heart. Dillon should be ashamed for what he’d done. The fact that he wasn’t, spoke more about his character as a rapist than hers as his victim.

She simmered during class, hiding her behind her curtain of hair. The discussion of Hester’s scarlet letter seemed inane compared with her own shame boiling away into a steam of rage. The topic shifted from the sin of adultery to the hypocrisy of the characters. One guy, Jerry, made a smart-ass comment about Hester getting what she deserved by being publicly shamed.

“I hope you get what you deserve,” Alicia seethed through a hiss.

“What the hell does that mean?” Jerry asked as he turned back to face her.

Alicia looked up at him and shook the hair out of her face. His eyes flashed in recognition.

“In the 1640s, women had no rights and were married off like cattle. Hester’s old, crippled husband sends her to another continent all by herself. Then he’s shipwrecked and everyone thinks he’s dead. Years later, she falls for the local preacher and they have a kid out of wedlock. So you think what she did deserves public humiliation for her crime?”

“Hey, hold on.” The guy holds his palms toward her like a shield. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I want to hear how you justify it, then,” Alicia said. “Go on.”

The class sat silent for a moment. Matt, the teaching assistant, sat down on the desk and crossed his arms, a patient smile on his face.

“Maybe I was wrong,” the guys said. His hands spread while a red flush crept up his neck. “I mean, it’s just a story.”

“Come on, Jerry,” the teaching assistant prompted. “You were laughing when you said she deserved it. You think this story is funny?”

“No,” he said, sounding defensive. “It’s just that if you’re gonna screw around there are consequences, that’s all.”

Matt smiled. “So in the context of the story, she deserved the consequences.”

“Exactly,” Jerry said to Matt with a sigh, thinking he was getting off the hook.

Matt stood up from the desk and paced as he spoke.

“Hawthorne published The Scarlet Letter in 1850. It was the era of America’s Manifest Destiny and the western expansion. The women’s suffrage movement was just getting off the ground. It was also the year Charles Darwin wrote The Origin of Species. I know the novel seems quaint now, but he wrote it as a scathing indictment of his experiences living in Salem, Massachusetts.”

Alicia still bristled at Jerry but wanted to hear where Matt was going.

“Hawthorne got fired from his job at the Salem Custom House due to politics. Then his mother passed away a few weeks later. He fell into a rage at the hypocrisy around him and poured it all into his story. He set The Scarlet Letter in the 1640s, two-hundred years in his past, as Alicia said earlier. That history still resonated with his contemporaries. It’s like the way we still write stories about cowboys and the old west, which was a little over two hundred years ago from now.

“His story was shocking in the Victorian 1850s in large part because Hester appeared unashamed of her sexuality. She was unapologetic about her adulterous affair and her bastard daughter, Pearl. She protected her lover by refusing to name him, even though naming him might have made her life easier. Then she raised her child right there in the same town that condemned her. She wore that scarlet letter on her breast for so long it became a symbol of her strength instead of her weakness. The hypocrites, Dimmesdale and Chillingworth, were the ones who suffered and died at the end of the story, not Hester.”

“Wow,” Jerry murmured. “I guess I never thought about it that way.”

“Next time, think before you speak,” Matt said to Jerry, then turned to Alicia. “I’ve heard the rumors about this weekend and I’m sorry for what you’re going through.”

The rest of the class stole quick glances and nodded at her, which Alicia took as signs of support. She kept her lips tight and returned their nods, feeling better despite still being angry at Jerry.

“That’s all for today,” Matt said as everyone began shutting down computers and packing up their bags. “We’ll continue this discussion on Wednesday. Please remember to finish Moby Dick over the weekend and be prepared to discuss it on Monday.”

Alicia stuffed her computer back in her book bag and headed toward the door. Jerry approached her despite the hard look she gave him.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a nervous glance around at their classmates passing around them. “I didn’t realize it was you. In that video, I mean.”

“It’s fine,” Alicia growled and stepped around him.

Increasing her pace, Alicia left the building and headed across the quad. She kept her head down so her hair hung across her face. Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. When she pulled it out, she saw a text from health services asking her to stop by.

Since she wasn’t hungry for lunch, she immediately angled away towards the health services building. Every step made her stomach clench tighter. Had the bastard given her something? They would just text her the results if she was clean, wouldn’t they? By the time she reached the door to the clinic, her mouth was slick and her stomach was roiling. The clinic receptionist appeared to be a bored student.

“I’m Alicia Tucker,” she squeezed out of her tight throat.

“Just sign in,” the woman mumbled as she thumb-tapped on her phone.

There was a sheet of paper on a clipboard with a number of black lines obscuring who had come in previously. Alicia wrote her own name down and wandered over to the waiting area. She only had sketchy memories of being helped through the lobby to the examination room. Had it only been three days? It felt like years.

She sat to wait on one of the hard plastic chairs that lined the walls. No one else was waiting so she pulled out her phone to read Moby Dick. Queequeg and Ishmael were busy lashing a mat to the boat when she heard her name.

“Alicia Tucker?” a nurse called to her, holding a folder open in her hands.

Alicia nodded and gathered her book back, tucking her phone into her back pocket. She followed the nurse to a private exam room. The searing acid in her stomach made her want to gag.

“I’m Mona. Let’s have a seat.” The nurse sat in a rolling chair next to a built-in desk. Alicia sat on a plastic and chrome chair while holding her book bag in her lap like a shield.

Mona reviewed the documents in the folder for so long that Alicia almost screamed in frustration. When Mona looked up, her smile dipped.

“Don’t worry, your tests came back clean.”

“You couldn’t have just texted me that?” Alicia shouted despite the instant relief she felt.

“No,” Mona said with a shrug. “HIPPA laws and all that.”

“God damn it,” Alicia whispered and rubbed her forehead. A headache was crawling up her neck. “Is there a chance something didn’t show up yet?”

“Not in this case,” Mona said. “I know I just mentioned privacy laws, but the uh ... other party ... tested clean as well.”

Alicia looked up at Mona with raised eyebrows.

“I know,” Mona continued. “Surprised me, too.”

“Is that all?” Alicia sighed.

“Yes, you’re free to go. Just sign here.”

Alicia trudged out of the exam room and made her way out into the sunlight again. Eating lunch still held no appeal. She bowed her head to shade behind her hair and aimed for the Chemistry building. She hoped she could find a nice back row seat to vegetate for a while.

The tall building overhung the main entrance, providing shade there. As Alicia stepped into the shadows, she noticed a group of guys loitering near the doors.

“That’s her,” one of the guys said loud enough for Alicia to hear.

Chills crawled up her back and through her scalp, pushing the headache deeper. She stepped faster without looking in their direction.

“Hey, Alicia,” a familiar voice called. “Why do you want us to lose the game Friday night?”

She risked a glance and saw a guy she’d hooked up with before. Was his name was Chuck? She didn’t stop to find out, but they jogged fast enough to intercept her before she reached the entrance.

Chuck put his hand flat against the glass to keep her from opening the door. “We hooked up. No big deal. So why are you hassling Dillon?”

Rage fought panic until the rage edged out front. “When we hooked up, did you wear a condom?”

“Of course,” he laughed. “You’re a slut.”

The epithet stung, but these assholes didn’t look ready to learn the finer points of feminism. Alicia swallowed before she answered.

“I asked Dillon to use a condom,” she said and then drew her hair back from her face. “This is what he did instead.”

The guys blinked in shock. Chuck’s look of amusement faded.

“Then he held me down and raped me. Can you see my problem now?”

Chuck backed up and let his hand fall away from the door. When he spoke again, his tone wasn’t as confident. “He said you went psycho.”

“Yeah, raping someone does that to a person,” Alicia muttered as she went through the door and left the idiots staring after her.

The lecture hall was mostly empty. Alicia made her way to the very back of the room and sat in one of the center chairs. After dragging up the desktop from the side of the chair, she dropped her book bag on top and rested her head against the canvas. Taking slow, deep breaths, she got herself under control again.

She was useless taking notes and missed half the Chemistry lecture. Luckily, the professor followed the material in the textbook so she should be able to pick up what she missed. After class, Alicia avoided eye contact with the other students and took less traveled paths to the parking lot and Megan’s car. While she waited, she pulled out her phone to check for messages.

“Hey, girlfriend,” Megan sang sweetly as she approached, pulling her keys out of her purse.

“Hey.” Even seeing Megan again couldn’t remove the taint from Alicia’s day.

Megan pulled Alicia into her arms. She nuzzled her face into Alicia’s neck and placed tickly kisses against her skin. That made Alicia chuckle despite her stress.

“There’s my girl,” Megan whispered and kissed Alicia tenderly.

When they pulled back, Alicia stared into Megan’s sympathetic eyes and felt her heart swell at the emotions she saw there. “Thanks.”

“You looked like you needed a hug.”

“You have no idea.”

They got in Megan’s car and drove to a coffee shop close to their old neighborhood. It was too early to go to Meredith’s house and Alicia needed to get some caffeine to help with her headache. After they got their drinks, the pair settled in on a couch. Alicia tucked her feet up next to her and snuggled into Megan.

“Tell me about it.”

Alicia sipped her coffee, then let out a long, slow breath. She started with the dorm and the elevator, then told Megan the confrontation in her English class. They kissed when Alicia shared the good news from the clinic. Tears burned her eyes when she recounted the guys giving her a hard time before Chemistry.

“Assholes,” Megan growled.

“This has me all fucked up,” Alicia whispered as she wiped at her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve done nothing to feel sorry for,” Megan said. “I’ll just keep telling you that until you believe me.”

“Thanks.” Alicia sniffed. “For everything.”

“So tell me about tutoring the guys,” Megan said as she settled back, her face clear of judgment.

“It really is tutoring,” Alicia insisted, before blushing. “Adam struggles more with English and social studies. Carlos has some kind of mental block with algebra, but he picks it up quick with me. He has Mr. Muller, remember him?”

 
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