SubscribeStar Story: The Tutor, Part 28

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Part 28

I meant it.

Somehow, despite everything, I wanted to kiss the girl who had twisted what was supposed to be a simple tutoring session into something so much more. I was still only wearing a bra on my upper half, plus the demeaning collar around my neck. And there was still a subconscious awareness that none of this was appropriate. Those details were long forgotten, however, when I was busy chasing the softness of Annabelle’s lips.

As a mostly straight girl, it was confusing enough to be filled with such a pressing desire. Add the fact that this was an eighteen year old, literally still in high school, and I was still very much on the same back foot I had been on since stepping into Annabelle’s suite earlier. Sure, a two year gap wasn’t that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, but her pre-graduation status was difficult to ignore. It was certainly more taboo than the age itself.

Confused, nervous, and hesitant. Pretty much the opposite of the red haired temptress before me.

“What was that, Mere?” Annabelle quietly asked. She brushed her lips against mine while subtly pulling me in by both my waist and my chin.

I knew what was going to happen, but I fell for it anyway. Leaning in for the fourth time, I attempted to meet her lips with my own. And got nothing for my troubles. Worse than nothing. It was another infuriating almost-kiss, where she parted hers against mine like we were finally going to do something together, only to pull back at the last possible moment.

TEASE. It’s what I wanted to accuse her of. Except there was still an intimacy to the moment, even if she was playing games. So, instead, I murmured, “I want to kiss you, Annabelle . . . ”

“Miss Annabelle,” she whispered.

“I want to kiss you, Miss Annabelle.”

My words lingered in the silence following them. My eyes were still closed, so all I had to go on was Annabelle’s touch and the warmth of her breath against my lips. Was she going to kiss me? I deserved that much. Admitting it verbally had taken a lot of courage. That, or perhaps desperation.

When I didn’t feel another tempting graze, I considered taking the initiative. She was still right there. If Annabelle was my age, if she was one of my peers, this would all be different. The girl/girl thing would still be wildly confusing, but at this point I probably would grab her university self with my own hands and put an end to the teasing with a deep, assertive kiss of my own. Because I was brave, and I wasn’t some clueless virgin, either. I knew how to make moves in the bedroom, albeit with guys.

Is that what Annabelle wanted? Was she baiting me in the name of sparking passion?

I didn’t care. After getting through three back to back admissions of what I wanted, the last one being clear and unnecessarily proper, I wanted what was rightfully mine. While I couldn’t find the strength to put my hands on her, I at least darted forward and used her nose as a guide to find my target. My lips crashed into hers. After so much suspense, I could feel my body practically melting as our lips met for a deep kiss.

Annabelle didn’t pull away. Not immediately, at least. She locked her lips with mine and sharply inhaled for a fleeting moment of passion. And then that moment ended. “Mere.” She gently pushed me back with the hand still poised on my waist, while taking a step the opposite way. Before I knew it, her lips were nowhere to be found, and I also lost the warmth of both of her hands as well. “That’s enough. You’re here to tutor me, aren’t you?”

That- that wasn’t fair! My eyes fluttered open as this latest spell was broken. I still stood in the threshold of the unfairly luxurious bathroom, half dressed compared to the redhead before me who was still fully clothed. And now, she had flipped things on me. I was the one going for a kiss, and she was the one pushing for what I was actually supposed to be here for. “But-”

“Come, Mere.” Without another word, Annabelle strutted away.

I could only follow. There wasn’t anywhere left to go, unless I wanted to stay in the bathroom or retreat farther into her suite. I felt a lot more self conscious about the bra and the collar as I timidly stepped back into the living room. It was a strange juxtaposition of being cold from all the exposed skin, yet also warm from the tightness and the embarrassment of the demeaning leather accessory. That, and the warmth of my blush that had returned in full force. Not only was I back in reality for the most part, but Annabelle and I just . . .

“Where’s my shirt?” I blurted out. Anything to break the silence, and distract myself from my swirling thoughts. That, and I noticed right away that it wasn’t folded over the sofa like I had last seen it.

“Clothes are a construct, Mere,” she reminded me. Patting the cushion right next to her, the young redhead gave me a warm smile. “Sit.”

Yeah, but that was her philosophy, not mine. Right away, I felt compelled to obey simply due to my vulnerable state and the way Annabelle seemed to more or less always get her way. However, I managed to stay strong this time. Standing was more powerful than sitting, even if I was only half dressed, and I also didn’t trust myself with that kind of proximity at the moment. Part of me still wanted to kiss her. “Annabelle.” I just needed a minute. This wasn’t me; I wasn’t into girls, and I certainly wasn’t into this particular girl. “I-”

“Miss Annabelle,” she corrected me again, “Get it right, Mere.”

Nodding, I said, “Miss Annabelle. Can we reschedule? How about tomorrow?” I asked. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember if I had anything on my calendar the following evening, but I didn’t care. Right now, the objective was getting out the door. Clearly I needed a cold shower, or even just five minutes alone. Time to think, and breathe, and reconcile all the events of the day with what I thought I knew about myself.

Annabelle sighed. “Is that really what you want?”

I honestly had no idea. But I wasn’t about to admit that. Nervously swallowing, I said, “Yes.”

“Fine.” Annabelle sat up and retrieved a pen from her small pouch of school supplies sitting on the table. Then, with her lips pursed in a small smile, she stood up while glancing my way. “Before you go, give me your hand. Be brave.”

The word still struck a chord in me. One way or another, I couldn’t shake the need to impress her. Just like the first day we met; she was the gorgeous rich girl, and I couldn’t help but seek her approval. “O-okay,” I said. As usual, it was never a question or request with Annabelle. She was telling me what to do, and I knew that I needed to do it. Because I wanted to be brave, and honest, and pretty. As she approached me, I held out my dominant left hand.

“You’re so pretty, Meredith,” Annabelle said. She took my hand and pivoted herself so we were more or less side by side. The use of my full name was more effective than I realized after not hearing it for so long, especially when paired with the compliment that subtly paired with the other word that worked so well on me.

“Thank you?” I replied. Her words had sounded genuine, and I wanted to believe her, but there was still a shadow of a doubt in the back of my mind. Did she mean it, or did she just want something from me? And, if she wanted something, did I want to give it to her? At the moment, probably. It’s exactly why I needed to sort myself out before putting myself in a position where more lines could potentially be crossed.

Annabelle rubbed the back of my hand with her thumb. At the same time, she popped the cap off what I could now see was a permanent marker. “Before you go, I just want you to remember your promise,” she said. Positioning the tip of the marker just above my hand, she instructed, “Hold still.”

I did.

With slow, deliberate strokes, Annabelle wrote letter after letter on the back of my hand. The marker and her own hand blocked my view for most of the process, though it became clear that her name was the first word in thick black ink that contrasted my pale skin.

“There,” she said. Taking both hand and marker away, she let me examine her work. Three bolded words were waiting for me:

ANNABELLE’S OBEDIENT PET

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