Amelia and the Tutor Ch. 01

Her phone vibrated and she flipped the cover.

Hi Amelia, what u doing?

Amelia grinned and pointed the camera-phone at her skirt. A pair of wide eyes looked up from beneath the tartan material and she snapped the picture and laughed softly. She clicked away at the phone, sending a text along with the picture. The bedside clock ticked, traffic drifted past the window.

A few miles away another nineteen year old opened her message.

So bored, maths tutor today!

She opened the attachment and laughed at the picture of a terrified looking middle aged man's face obscured by her friend's skirt, judging by the deep red of his forehead and the way his eyes were bulging out she judged he had been there for some time.

"Ugh" Amelia said and looked down at her tutor.

"I'm bored of this phone" She said.

"You have to press so many buttons just to send a silly little picture."

He looked up at her, searching for an answer.

"Hey!" said Amelia, flicking his head and watching the white spots her finger left fade back to a beetroot red.

"Are you listening?" She lifted her skirt up. His nose and mouth were crushed into her satin panties, she raised herself of him just enough and he gasped and spluttered.

"Hey!" Shouted Amelia, "My phone is atrocious!"

She emphasised this by hitting him in the head with the phone. He blinked and hoovered up the small slice of air she had left between her crotch and his mouth. He stared at her as the colour returned to his face, spluttering and gasping.

"So? What are you going to do about it?" She taunted, she could almost see the cogs turning as he came back to life.

She rolled her eyes, "Well?" She demanded, pinching his nose shut.

"What are you going to do about my shitty phone?"

"Buy you a new one." Squeaked Mr Daniels

"What?"

"Buy you a new one." He said a little louder, still out of breath.

"Oh my god" She said, desperation crept over his face as he searched for the answer to please her

"Buy you two phones?" He meekly offered.

"I don't want two phones; I want one that works quickly and properly, unlike you. Buy me a new phone what?"

"Princess" he said brightly, relieved to of found the correct answer.

Her weight shifted on him, her smooth bare skin brushed his face and her scent overwhelmed him. She settled back onto his face, her skirt rustled and she sighed.

"Say it again."

"Minfsuss" his muffled response coursed through her crotch.

"Again!"

She moaned and rocked on top of his face, he screamed "Princess" into her satin panties again and again and she yelled in pleasure, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling until his eyes watered. When she had finished she leaned back and exhaled slowly in pleasure while he sucked in air with desperation. She let go of his hair and sneered at the sweat on her hand. She rolled off him and ordered him off her bed. He staggered across the room.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know princess."

"That's because I haven't told you."

"Yes princess."

She stood up and straightened her outfit, thin black socks, short tartan skirt and a tight black top. He stood watching her, waiting to be told what to do as she delicately lifted her skirt and inspected the material of her panties.

"You slobbered all over these you useless old man" She glared at him accusingly.

"Sorry princess, I'll wash them for you." He offered.

"They have loser spit all over them, why would I want them now? So I can clone a retard? I want new ones."

"Yes princess" He nodded in agreement as if there was a choice.

"Get on your knees." She smiled as he got down with a grunt. She sat on the bed and coolly crossed her legs; looking him in the eye as she wriggled free of her underwear and let them hang from the end of one foot. She hooked a finger at him. Hypnotised by the swaying satin he crawled towards her. When he got close enough she raised her foot and let the panties hover over his face. He looked up like a wounded dog. She lowered the satin, letting it brush his nose, idly rubbing his crotch with her other foot. His eyes were torn between the panties, her foot and the chance of a glimpse up her skirt. She finally raised her foot above his head and clicked her fingers. "Wallet" was all she needed to say and he squeezed his hand into his pocket. His trousers had grown considerably tighter since the start of their lesson.

He thought about the blue pills he used to have to take in order to make love to his wife. He had not needed one since meeting Amelia. From their first lesson he had been in love with her. He had stopped dead in the doorway of the room they were supposed to take their lessons in; perhaps subconsciously unsure he was allowed to be in the same room as such a woman. Delicate features, almost golden hair, a perfect body.

Most alluring and indeed intimidating were her eyes, a deep brown that, when caught by the light glinted red. He had learnt in his time with her that they burned red when angry, aroused or struck by mischief. And in that first lesson they watched him, softly burning as he stumbled over a clumsy introduction to the play they were to study. With hindsight he realised she had been watching him with a coiled amusement. And so his days and nights since had been spent in an erotic stupor. Admittedly one of torment, but at the hands of Amelia this was more satisfying to him than the most uninhibited night spent with any woman he had known before.

He dug out the wallet and handed it to her.

"Nooo, no no." She taunted, nestling the satin panties on his head and lifting them away from him.

"How do pay piggies pass me my wallet?"

He put the leather wallet between his teeth and shuffled closer to her on his knees. This wasn't his first time. She took the panties in her hand and crossed her legs and he dropped the wallet into her lap and lingered there. She slapped him once on the cheek.

"Stop sniffing at me."

"I wasn't."

She slapped him again.

"Of course you were Mr Daniels" And she brushed her panties over his face.

She threw the panties across the room and giggled.

"Fetch" And he rumbled after them.

She casually flicked through his wallet, looking over his plain worn out cards with distaste and sneering at the picture of him, smiling in a Hawaiian shirt with his wife and daughter. She knew the girl from school; she had been a year above Amelia and looked down her nose at her. Amelia looked at her smiling back from the photograph, and then looked over to her middle aged father, on all fours on her bedroom floor with his nose buried in her discarded underwear.

"Thank you princess" He squeaked from across the room.

She looked at Mr. Daniels, the panties held to his chest in reverence, and smiled sweetly at him.

"You're welcome Mr. Daniels" She waved the wallet. "I'm going to need a really nice pair in return, too good for the likes of you to ever see."

A car pulled onto the drive outside. Amelia whirled off the bed and looked through the blind.

"My mother's home early" She told him and he started to panic. "Straighten yourself out and try to hide that pathetic little stiffy" She ordered coolly. They walked downstairs, in the frosted glass of the front door they could see Amelia's' mother lifting bags from the car boot.

She pointed to the table, the books and his satchel in the exact position they had been in when her mother left that morning. He lumbered over to the table and she noticed he was still very red faced and walking painfully. She breathed out slowly and opened the front door with a smile.

"Hi mum! You're back early."

"Cheryl cancelled our lunch, so I just went to the supermarket instead."

"Is she okay?"

"I don't know, something about her husband's bank account. Her card was refused and she was too embarrassed. Help me with these bags"

Amelia tried to remember which of her friends had their perfectly manicured nails into Cheryl's husband, and how far along he was to ruination. She glanced back through the window at the shape of her tutor packing away his worn out satchel and thought what small fry he really was, compared to some of the sugar daddies she could cultivate amongst her mother's social group. She took a bag and carried it inside, her mother following behind her.

"Mr Daniels? You're still here?" Her mother said with surprise when she saw the tutor packing away his things.

"Oh, he stayed behind to help me with some background to the play; the online test is coming up."

"I'll only charge for the hour I said I would do" Mumbled Mr Daniels, still looking flustered. Amelia's' mother looked him up and down before smiling brilliantly.

"Not at all, you've been very helpful to my daughter." She counted out fifty pounds from her purse and he humbly accepted it.

"Let yourself out, we'll see you next week." And she walked into the kitchen. Amelia sidled up to him and slid his wallet into his pocket, breathing heavily in his ear.

"You still owe me a shopping trip Mr. Daniels."

"Yes princess." He whispered. Amelia's' mother called her into the kitchen, she pushed the satin panties into Mr. Daniels hand and he fumbled them into his satchel.

"How nice for you, to get paid a little extra this week."

"Please" He whispered. "Take it."

"You would do that for me?" She taunted.

"Yes, yes I want you to have it." And he held out the money. She tapped his nose with her sharp nail. "Is that how we hand our princess her money?" He looked pleadingly at her as her mother called for her again. She took the money and shoved it in his mouth and he sank to the floor and begged her to take his wages.

"This doesn't get you out of taking me pantie shopping"

He nodded eagerly, a man in a deep hole begging to keep digging. She tucked the money away in her sheer bra and blew him a kiss, turning on her heel so her skirt lifted up to the dimples of her bottom.

He staggered out of the front door, the day felt hotter than it was and the sound of a sprinkler on the lawn disorientated him until he thought he would vomit, but he found his car and slumped at the steering wheel, not knowing whether to cry, masturbate or drive off a bridge. An old man watering his lawn was watching him with a curious look. He started his car and drove with the exaggerated caution of a drunk.

Amelia walked into her kitchen; her mother was putting away the shopping bags, her heels brisk on the kitchen tiles.

"Your tutor was here for a long time."

"Yes, he gave me some notes on social hierarchy in Italy at the time of the play."

"Social hierarchy?"

Amelia took a sip of juice from the new carton, and pulled off a piece of fresh bread from the loaf her mother had just bought. Her mother tutted.

"Get a glass."

"The society they lived in fuelled the jealousy and prejudice that instigated the drama."

"And you couldn't just look up those things on the internet?"

"Wikipedia mother? I want my essay to stand out. Why else pay for a tutor?"

"That's not what I'm saying."

Amelia rolled her eyes as she chewed some more bread.

"It's so ridiculous that I even have to do this essay, such a waste of my summer. I had the highest marks in my class."

Her mother handed her a glass.

"You did, Amelia, and then you decided to take a gap year, sit on beaches and go to parties for a year, which universities take as a flighty attitude to studies, which is why you are being asked for proof of a certain academic standard."

"I know."

"And it is nice of your tutor to stay on for an extra lesson, but be wary."

"What do you mean?"

Her mother frowned at her. "There are a lot of things a man will do for a beautiful young girl or for the opportunity of time with her."

"Oh?" Said Amelia and took another handful of bread. "I'm sure Mr. Daniels isn't like that."

"You can be very innocent sometimes Amelia" Said her mother and closed the cupboard door.

Late that night the tutor lay in bed listening to the rhythm of his wife's snoring. She slept with her back to him in a crumpled t shirt. Somewhere on the street a dark barked and it echoed of some unseen brick. He peeled the sheets back and put one foot on the floor. His wife snorted in response and settled again, he slid out of bed and crept to the door; he looked back at the dark shape of his wife and went out onto his landing. The air was cool and he trod softly, padding past his daughters room. A floorboard creaked like an animal scream and he cringed, ducking into his cramped study. A street light filtered through the room, over his lonely little desk, the boxes of books and clothes and his wife's abandoned cross trainer. A clean line of orange light rested on his satchel, hanging from the back of his chair. For anyone to go through the bag would mean someone in his house being interested in him at all. He closed his eyes and slid his hand in, past the hard edges of notebooks, pens and loose papers, the everyday jags of his life, until his hand brushed something soft, something expensive, something otherworldly. He pinched the fabric, ran a finger over the ruffled edges. The satin panties leapt at his hand, caressing him, exciting him. His heart was pounding. On impulse he carried them into the bathroom and locked the door. And so that was the rhythm of his week, when he was alone in his kitchen he would kiss the square in the calendar, July the third, his next lesson with Amelia. Every night he took sanctuary in her panties, they took him away from his shoebox house, his bored wife and ungrateful daughter. Amelia had unlocked something inside him that he had not known about, but she had, he saw now that from the first moment they were together she had sensed his deepest desires and weakness and had effortlessly manipulated them. He was besotted with her, every penny he had earned from his tutoring job had gone on her and she spent them on frivolous beautiful things. He had not failed to notice that she had packages delivered to her house all the time and almost always wore brand new clothes. She had so casually dominated him; he could not fathom the levels she operated on. She was the girl he would never have, the girl he never could of had at any age or stage of his life, and at his age this was a lesson he had learnt well, so to be allowed in the same room as her, to lick the days sweat from her feet, to kiss her perfect bottom and be smothered between her legs was an easy compromise. He had always suspected he was a complete loser, and had tried to carry himself in spite of it, but she had come along and confirmed what he was. A nineteen year old had made a grown man kneel and degrade himself for her amusement, and had freed him from any presumptions of manliness.

He sleepwalked through the rest of his lessons that week, detesting the students simply not for being her, and then it was the third of July and he woke to birds singing.

He drove slowly to her house. The day was already hot, and after a few minutes of deep breathing in his car he was knocking at her door.

She was waiting for him in the study downstairs. When he entered she smiled and greeted him sweetly. He could hear her mother pottering in the kitchen so played along, sitting opposite her and getting out his books.

"So what are we doing today?" Amelia asked happily. He paused and searched her face for a hidden meaning.

"Um" he stammered, "Anything you say, princess."

She laughed and looked at him with curiosity.

"You're the tutor" She said and giggled.

"You're supposed to tell me what to do." Her mother's heels clipped across a tile somewhere, he played along.

"Well we need to look at the historical context of the play, because this could be useful in your final essay."

"The one I submit to the university?"

"Yes, Princess. So I made some notes about Venice, about the military structure and the social hierarchy at the time."

She took the notes from him and started to read. Her mother knocked at the door and came in.

"Hello Mr Daniels, sorry to interrupt, Amelia I'm going out for the rest of the day, I might be back as late as nine so I left some money in the kitchen."

"Is there any food in the kitchen, Mother?" Amelia asked and her mother frowned at her. "There's pasta in the cupboard, and enough money for you to order something." Her voice was tight. "Settle into your lesson. Mr Daniels can I pay you now?"

She handed him a few notes and he thanked her. She left the room and he watched Amelia reading. The sun through the window tangled in her blonde hair. The front door shut and his stomach tightened. The car started and drove away and his heart started to beat faster, expecting to be lead upstairs and tortured until Amelia was bored. His cock had stiffened when the mother had announced she would be out until late, imagining the time he had to spend with the girl he adored, cruel and perfect. But she continued to read, taunting him silently and sweetly, brushing the end of her pencil against her pink lips from time to time.

When she finished her reading he asked a few easy questions, she answered them and made a few observations about the play. She was such an attentive pupil he began to wonder if in fact this had all been a degraded fantasy of his and by the time his hour was up he felt completely ashamed and bewildered. It was obvious by her comments and insights into the play she was supremely intelligent and he was unsure why she would even need a tutor.

She looked at the watch on her slender wrist and told him the hour was up.

"I could stay a little longer, if you would like." He offered

"Oh that's okay, it was quite a good lesson, and I rather think we have done enough." She yawned, her mouth forming a tiny 'o' and her arms above her head pulling her blouse tight against her breasts.

"I could stay and do some chores for you, anything."

"There's nothing I need you to do Mr Daniels." She said innocently.

He couldn't take any more of this new torture; he threw himself to the floor, on his knees in front of her. She looked down at him in bemusement.

"Princess please! Please tell me what to do, I'm yours, I'm all yours." He had tears in his eyes and his head was spinning, she sat with her legs crossed dangling her trainer from her foot.

"Whatever do you mean Mr Daniels?"

He grabbed his fee from the table and crawled to her feet with it in his mouth. She pushed him away and stood up, her trainer had fallen off and he held it up for her. She took it from him and frowned.

"I think you should leave" She said.

"What about your money?"

"I should rather think you need your fee Mr Daniels" She glared down at him as she slipped on her trainer. "After all, don't you have a wife to support, and a daughter? About my age?"

She sauntered out of the room and he gathered up his belongings, bewildered, and left.

And so another week went by, this one spent in the fresh mire of rejection. Far less tantalising than the enslavement and humiliation, but this was emptiness, hours lying awake trying to think what he had done or not done. This was matched by the time he spent cursing himself, aiming barbs at himself he had come to rely on Amelia for. He was a zombie in every other lesson he took, forgetting textbooks, and the names of students. He worshipped her panties while his family snored around him. His daughter showed him adverts for used cars and he looked at the price tag and tried to guess what he could buy for Amelia.