SubscribeStar Story: The Tutor, Part 32

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Part 32

It didn’t help that my dominant hand proclaimed that I was ‘Annabelle’s obedient pet’ in bold permanent marker. I had tried to wash it off when I first got back to my place, but didn’t seem to make a dent. How many times would I need to wash my hands before the thick, black ink faded? The words were also in such a prominent place, meaning that I pretty much saw them every time I did anything; cooking and studying, for example.

So, when I picked up the phone to see what Annabelle had to say, I was once again met with the familiar brand before I could focus my attention on the screen. The text waiting for me was one fewer word than the permanent message I was stuck with. ‘Forgetting something?’ What was that supposed to mean? I could barely focus on my schoolwork due to all the things I remembered and replayed despite my best efforts. Something tutoring related? Or, something else . . . ?

A few seconds later, my eyes widened in realization.

The selfie! That’s what she was talking about. I had been too caught up in the frustration at still being collared, and all the other memory fragments of things that I had done with Annabelle swirling around in my mind. Somehow, that bit with my phone had been a blind spot. The moment I remembered, however, I could visualize it just as clearly as everything else. Annabelle picking up my phone, smirking for the selfie, and- Oh, my God. That picture was still there, wasn’t it?

Flicking her message away, I opened my camera roll and saw the familiar picture she had shown me right after taking it. Her smirk, her cleavage, the lace bra; her fiery red hair and so much smooth skin. I stared for longer than I cared to admit before slamming the phone face down on my desk. “No,” I said, out loud to myself. Annabelle was wildly attractive, yes, but I was not into her. She was the one making moves on me, and I was- I wasn’t sure what I was. Certainly not a girl who recently touched herself to the thought of all this.

I needed to work. While I was quickly figuring out that studying wasn’t going to happen tonight, as retaining anything with a distracted mind was hopeless, I needed to at least finish all my assignments and get a decent head start on my part of the current group project. Not message Annabelle, or check her out even if it was safer to do so with a picture than when the two of us were together. I definitely wasn’t about to take a matching selfie for the younger girl.

Objectively, the best move was to delete her partial nude. Both to remove the confusing temptation and to not have a picture of a half dressed eighteen year old on my phone. But Annabelle told me to keep it, and there was her point about a neck-down picture being anonymous. Plus turning my phone back over now would refresh all the distractions I just managed to symbolically reject by putting the device down in the first place. Excuses, maybe, but I needed to work.

Eventually, I managed to hunker down and be productive. Just because I was naturally good with numbers didn’t mean that I was effortlessly top of my department. It was hard work staying on top of the complex problems that were thrown at me. And, aside from working through everything, I also needed to show my work and check my work. With all that, I could only go so quickly. Still, I persevered, just like every weekday evening.

My phone buzzed.

Since I had left it where it was, I had no idea how much time had passed since I had ignored Annabelle and tried to put her out of my mind. I knew that I should leave it alone, but it could just as easily be one of my group members like I had hoped for the first time. It probably wasn’t. We were meeting tomorrow, and the stuff we were working on separately at the moment didn’t really require checking in with each other until then. But I had to know.

Sure enough, it was here. Just a simple, ’Mere?’ If it were anyone else, I would have scoffed. At first glance, it looked like the kind of text someone would send if they felt a little bit desperate and ignored. ‘You there?’ ‘Hello?’ Classic teenager. Or older, when it came to certain immature guys. But this was Annabelle. Not only had she waited more than ninety minutes to follow up, but she also wasn’t the type to beg via text in that way. With just a single word, she managed to convey everything–the girl wasn’t begging; she was expecting my attention and obedience.

Sighing to myself, I stared at the screen for a few seconds as I debated whether or not I should message her back. Though I was alone at my place, and had plenty of time to breathe after everything, it still felt like she had a subtle hold over me. Fully turning over my hand, I looked more fully at the words for the first time in a while. ANNABELLE’S OBEDIENT PET. It wasn’t actually like that, of course. Mostly because the word ‘obedient’ was so . . . insulting? Demeaning? A little bit slutty, depending on the context?

Ultimately, I told myself that this was about the collar. In order to get the key as quickly as possible, I had to keep Annabelle happy. At the back of my mind, however, I knew there was something more to it than that. ’Studying.’ There. Caving a little bit and giving her attention, but also not being the docile pet she might be hoping for. I was still her tutor, and had work to do as a math major. This was my time, and I was offering a little bit of it to her. I could only hope that my simple text conveyed all that as effectively as hers did to me.

I stared at the phone for a few seconds, kicking myself for how I was basically being the very same teenager type I was just silently judging. Impatiently waiting for a text back, instead of putting the phone down and letting it come in due time. Luckily, Annabelle replied quickly enough that I didn’t need to figure out whether or not I should do just that with my phone. Call me when you’re done.’

Call her? But- I knew I didn’t have to, but I also knew that I would. Sighing to myself, I confirmed as much. ‘Okay.’ The moment I sent the text, I kicked myself again. Damnit. I could have left her wondering. Literally eight words across her three texts, and she was this much in my head. Overthinking everything, and once again pulled away from the focus I had managed to find. Annabelle fucking Alodia.

After another stretch of time where my focus was pulled left and right as I tried to find my groove again, I finally managed to give more of my attention to the pages in front of me than anything past or present that had to do with Annabelle. Little by little, I chipped away at the remaining work on my desk until I finished everything that absolutely needed to be done by midnight. My work for the following day’s classes, and the group project. Normally I would keep going and get as much of a head start as possible on the rest of the week’s assignments, but it had been enough of a conscious effort to keep my thoughts forward for what I had done so far. The rest would have to wait.

I picked up my phone again and clicked on Annabelle’s name to pull up her number. This was a terrible idea. While it’s not like she could kiss me or undress before my very eyes, I also hadn’t had any time to collect myself or prepare for such a call. There had been too much to get done after leaving her place, and it had been proven time and time again that I was never truly capable of handling the girl. However, that logic also held in terms of why I might as well call her. Preparation or not, I would find myself on my back foot thanks to how she was. Maybe it was better to just go for it and stop over analyzing things like I normally did.

That being said, a breath couldn’t hurt. Hovering my thumb over the button on the screen, I closed my eyes and audibly exhaled. “Here we go,” I muttered to myself. And then, before I could talk myself out of it, I made the call.

Three rings later, and she picked up. “Hey, Mere. Took you long enough.” Casual, with just a hint of judgment that was hiding behind what was a teasing tone on the surface. I recognized what she was doing, but that didn’t mean I knew how to stop it from working.

“Sorry,” I blurted out, blushing right away at the unnecessary apology, “Busy night. What’s up?” What the hell was I doing? I was talking to her like we were just two girls having a normal conversation. While playing it cool felt important, there was still so much more I wanted to say. I needed the key at her place. I wasn’t the type of girl to send nudes. I was her tutor and, as much of an effect as she had on me, we really needed to find our way back to that dynamic.

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t scared or shy or anything,” she said, “I mean, after all those claims about how you’re a brave girl . . . ”

Ugh, so she was talking about the selfie. I never actually agreed to that! I mean, I didn’t disagree, either. But that wasn’t the point. It was just so presumptuous on her end, especially in the sense that I hadn’t made up my mind one way or another. “I am brave, Annabelle.” At some level, I knew I was walking into a verbal trap, but I couldn’t help myself. Scared? Shy? Fuck no. At the same time, however, I could prove that in other ways. “But I told you-”

“Nudes are a bad idea?” she giggled, “What about the one I took for you? That could be literally any hot redhead. Besides, you owe me. Selfie for selfie. That’s fair, isn’t it? Besides, it’s not like you need to flash your boobs or anything! It’s just a bra pic. Mere, it’s only a big deal if you make it a big deal.”

“Because clothes are a construct?” I rolled my eyes.

“Because collared girls are obedient.”

I hesitated. She had sounded more like a teenager with the giggle and the way she jumped around with her explanation. But then, out of nowhere, the tone shifted to the more stern Annabelle I had experienced a few times at her place.

That side of her was a lot more intimidating. Even over the phone, I wasn’t quite sure how to handle it . . .

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