College Chronicles Ep. 08 Pt. 01

It took more than a few fake coughs to rouse Natalie, but I knew I had succeeded when I heard a sleepy groan from behind me.

"Wha—... Sam? Oh... what time is it?"

"Oh my God Nat, you slept so late. It's nearly nine thirty! We've got class at quarter to!"

When I turned, she had covered herself more fully, and had grabbed her phone from the table at its head.

"Ugh... just go without me... I'll catch up. Click me in though?"

She tossed me the little tan clicker we had been sold upon arriving at college that was used to record attendance at lessons. I rolled my eyes. I'd be lucky if Natalie even made it to class. She would take her time getting ready, evidenced by her repose in her bed, swiping through her phone despite the ticking clock for lateness. Even when she was ready, she always put a cup of coffee and breakfast as higher priority than prompt attendance.

I on the other hand, I was doing too poorly in most of my classes to waste time on lateness or food. So I scampered out the door, waving goodbye to Natalie as she slowly pushed herself out of bed.

On the way I realised an obvious problem— I had no bag or books, no laptop to take notes. But I couldn't miss any of class. I resolved that I would pay closer attention than ever, and take notes once I could download the presentation from the class site.

I was relieved when I made it through the broad doors into the massive hall. It was the same class I had on my first day, with rows on row of black chairs, red fabric seats, and folding desks on each chair side. The seats elevated as they went farther back, and I sat in a very back row, feeling secure in a corner with walls at my side and behind me. As an extra measure I pulled my hood low on my face, tucking away my blonde fringe as much as possible. Then I scanned the other desks; lots of sleepy, casually clothed freshman, spread out across the entire width of the hall. Little clusters of cliques had formed, and quiet conversation buzzed as we waited for the professor to begin.

I finished my scan, and sat back with a sigh of relief. No sign of Jaxx. I tugged my hood down a little further, then noticed the professor threading his way down to the podium at the focus of the hall. I used our clickers to mark Natalie and myself present for the lesson and sat forward, eager to take advantage of my college education. Little did I know, I had only reached the eye of the storm. My night at Natalie's had been a momentary reprieve from the tempest that was Jaxx. And now my time was up.

It had only been twenty minutes when I heard a door close somewhere across the hall. I was still intent on my professor's monotonous lecture, but a chill ran down my spine, and I uncontrollably wriggled and I let out a soft whimper. The only person even near me in the rows was a tall, serious looking guy in a full suit, who turned to me after my little noise. He gave me a look that said 'what the fuck was that?' but I stared forward, watching the professor. If only I'd looked around at that moment, I might have had a chance.

I didn't see Jaxx at first, but I unknowingly felt his presence. A tension filled me, nervous energy that had my leg tapping and my fingers gripping the sides of the chair. The temperature seemed to jump and I was suddenly sweating, beads water forming on the back of my neck. Then I noticed movement in my peripheral vision. Jaxx was making his way down the aisle towards me, and my blood ran cold, my sweat suddenly freezing. I had thought being in the corner was safe, but by not noticing him, I'd trapped myself, unable to get out without climbing over into the next row.

Everyone knows about the fight or flight reaction. But I've read online that there's a third possible physiological reaction. And that's freeze. Fighting was never an option against Jaxx. And shocked as I was by Jaxx's appearance, I couldn't even consider the option of flight. So I froze.

No one should blame me for freezing! Jaxx was an impressive sight. More than six and a half feet tall, he towered over me physically. I knew from... intimate experience that he was absolutely shredded with muscle, but you could tell anyway by the way his clothes clung to his broad shoulders and chiselled abdomen. Now, he was wearing a tight white undershirt under a black leather jacket, with dark black jeans and an expensive looking pair of kicks. He somehow had a confident swagger as he walked down the row towards me, with none of the usual awkwardness of someone threading their way past folded chairs.

What really grabbed me was the omnipresent smirk on his face. It had taken me a while to reconcile that villainous smirk, but now I realised he looked exactly like Superman. Square jaw, muscular jaw and deep eyes that looked through you. The only differences were the brown hair Jaxx wore in short waves in the middle of his head and faded sides, and the grey eyes (with heat vision, in their own way).

Seeing his handsome smirk, 'cocksure' twist on a heroic visage, brought my heart to fluttering and my knees to shivering. His gaze bored into me until I couldn't bear to hold it and I whipped my head to glue my eyes on the professor. I licked dry lips and shivered, willing myself not to whimper, hoping that maybe if I ignored him he would leave me alone.

When he sat down heavily next to me, in the second to last seat in the row, I nearly jumped out of the seat. Then one arm came down over the back of the chair and my shoulders. I shrank into the seat as I felt his corded limb flex and lay heavily across my back. He had me absolutely pinned; a wall on one side, him on two others. My heart beat harder in my chest as I was cowed by his boldness. His voice rolled out, a low rumble, just for me,

"Hey baby. Miss me?" I stared forward trying to ignore his taunting words and tone. After a few seconds I turned to find him smirking patiently at me, waiting for me to speak, all the time in the world. It took me a few moments, but I choked out a half-whispered response,

"Wha-... Uhmm... J-Jaxx, don't... I'm not your baby... what do you want? The professor is talking!" I stumbled over my words before becoming bolder with fear and exasperation.

"Okay, Pussy..."

He emphasised the word cruelly and more loudly, making me cringe further into my seat while he chuckled at his own joke. I noticed the serious guy in the suit flinch, then stand up and walk away down his row, leaving me even more isolated. Jaxx continued, his voice returning to the mischievous tone he had first addressed me in.

"Drop the hood, roomie, you look a lot better with your hair out."

Then his hands were at my neck, and I flinched hard, thinking he was going to hurt me. But instead, he lightly grabbed the edges of my hood and flipped it off my head. The intimacy of the action stunned me, and he leaned back and smirked yet again as I looked at him, open-mouthed, struggling to find a response. He didn't give me time, his voice soft but firm, a gentle murmur that I easily heard over the professor's droning monologue.

"Look, Sam... I need your help. Roommate stuff." His tone was confidential, his face shockingly earnest, the first time I could remember feeling like he actually saw me. I felt myself sinking into those deep grey eyes, which reflected the lights around us as gleaming baubles of silver, giving him an uncharacteristically warm appearance. Was Jaxx actually being nice to me?

"I had this sexy little tease in our room last night... Problem is, she didn't stay over, now I've got a big load I need to work out." He smirked and brought the arm not laying across my shoulders down to his crotch, grabbing and shaking the large bulge in his pants I had desperately been trying to ignore.

I grimaced at his lewd gesture, but was more shaken by what he'd called me. 'Sexy little tease.' It was probably the nicest thing he'd ever said to me, sadly. Hearing it from his softly booming voice made my heart race, brought a familiar heat to my face.

Then his arm was lifting one of my hands from where they lay passively in my lap. He pulled down the baggy dark cloth of my hoodie sleeve to reveal my thin, delicate-looking arm and hand. Pristine, pale white skin enhanced the red nail paint Cindy had applied only a few days ago, making it stand out, and like this my arm looked like a girl's; sleek and feminine.

Jaxx's paw wrapped around my hand, and I was astonished by the size difference. He dwarfed me in height, and that extended to our hands. My lithe fingers and thin palm disappeared in his broad, powerful grasp, hidden beneath thick meaty fingers bristling with coarse dark hairs at his knuckles. He briefly slid his fingers through mine, intertwining like we were holding hands, and my hand felt weightless in his embrace.

I thought about resisting, about pulling my hand back into my lap. I wouldn't have been able if Jaxx was being rough with me, I knew he could overpower me easily. But Jaxx wasn't being rough; if anything he was gentle as he withdrew his fingers and caressed from my hand up my limb, dragging his digits up my soft skin so he was just barely touching, eliciting goosebumps that quickly spread across my entire body. I shuddered with the strange feeling of revulsion and pleasure, and decided not to fight him, hoping it would keep him happy.

What was happening? What was he doing?? Bullying I was used to. I could deal with it. This was something new.

"Mmmhhh, you've got such pretty little hands Sami... Didn't it feel so good rubbing my big, hard dick?" His hand softly pulled mine, and before I realised it my hand was on his jeans, rubbing the hot bulge at his crotch.

I was shocked, and my eyes and mouth shot open, warning alarms going off in my head. I tried to pull my hand back from where he held it in his lap, but his grip had tightened to iron, and I couldn't budge him a centimeter. As I struggled I happened to squeeze slightly on his bulge, I felt his snake kick back, hardening even as he tormented me.

"J-Jaxx!" I yelped loudly, before remembering the crowded hall we were in. I paused for a moment, pulling myself under control. It was difficult; he still firmly held my hand to his swelling crotch, and now the hand around my shoulders had slipped up, beneath my hair, to caress the back of my neck. I had control over my volume but little else, and Jaxx had me in such an intimate grasp I didn't know what to do to but beg quietly. I tried to make my eyes as big as possible, the way Cindy liked, and reason with him, hissing under my breath,

"I-I... We... Jaxx! There are... people! We-we'll... What if... someone sees?" I knew he didn't care about that. After all, he had let me watch his sexcapades many times recently. And he'd even enjoyed a girl jerking him off in class before. But in the heat of the moment I realised none of this, desperately grasping at straws that might save me from my predicament.

"Don't worry baby." His voice was strong and low, calm and surprisingly soothing. The hand on my neck squeezed at pressure points just below and behind my ears. I exhaled slightly in surprise at how good his hand felt rubbing on my neck, fingers lightly rubbing against soft skin. I closed my eyes for a moment and he continued,

"No one will see anything. Look, I'll put the desk down." I could hear the slight thud of the folding desk fall into place suspended above his lap. "You don't even have to take it out. Just put your hand in my pants." He let go of my hand, and I knew what he was doing by the movement of his jeans and the unmistakeable zipping noise of a fly going down.

With my hand free, I had pulled it back to sit in my lap. But I didn't move. I didn't shout at him, or stand up and storm down the row, or vault over the chairs in front of us. I didn't tell him off for bullying me, or rant at him how much I hated him. I had no options, sure that trying to fight back would only make him angry, escalate my danger.

I felt strange, how I imagined it felt to be hypnotized. Floaty, as if I was somehow disconnected from my own body. And Jaxx's hand kept rubbing up and down my neck and across my back, his strength at once intimidating and reassuring, possessive and shielding. Eventually, eyes still closed, I mumbled a halting protest,

"I... I caaan't, Jaxx... I'm not... I don't.... Like dicks..." I cringed inwardly at my soft, high-pitched whine. My words said no, but my tone said yes. I knew I needed to say no, face-to-face, so I built up the courage to open my eyes again. When I did I was instantly met by the blunt, iced-granite look of cold superiority. I felt myself swallowed by his irises; endless fissured bedrock. Eyes as solid and immoveable as his sheer physical presence. The 'no' perched on my lips cowered, then turned tail and fled down my throat, producing only a nervous gulp.

His chuckle, low and dark, reverberated through me until it mixed with the anxious tremble that made my limbs flutter.

"Shhhh baby. You liked MY dick a whole lot last night, don't lie. Grab it."

As he spoke I continued to stare at his groin. His fly was all the way down, and he'd shuffled his jeans down a little so I could see from the labelled waistband of his black athletic boxer-brief down to the crotch and stitching, where the imprint of his long, thick rod was already clear, pointed up towards his waist. Was it moving, slowly growing under his tight underwear? I couldn't stop thinking about how fat and heavy his cock had been in my hands the previous night. It was so disgusting and filthy... but for some sick reason, I wanted to hold it again. I wanted to feel it's intoxicating heat, to see my hand rendered dainty and girlish against his dangerous masculinity.

Jaxx's voice was hot in my ear; calm, soft and commanding. "Don't be afraid, Sami. I got you. Get in there." If he had called me pussy again, I might not have fallen for it. I was prepared to handle cruelty, but I had no defense against comfort. The soothing promise of protection crumbled my already shaky defenses.

In hindsight, it was a move straight from Cindy's repertoire of manipulation. But I had no hindsight or foresight, just the nearly magnetic sight of the quickly awakening python in Jaxx's jeans.

I moved slowly. Painfully, achingly slowly. My hand was in a state of constant wavering, lifting from my lap and drifting centimeter by centimeter from my lap towards his. My heart was beating out of my chest. I almost hoped that Jaxx would rush me or insult me, force himself upon me and provide an excuse to break the spell. But he was content to let me take my time, the arm massaging my neck still pulling me over into him, his opposite arm draped on an armrest casually. He was such a fucking bastard.

Then my hand was on his underwear, and I gasped in shock at the size and burning heat of the log straining at the tight, thin fabric of his black athletic briefs. My gasp turned into a low, subconscious moan, but I snapped my mouth shut when Jaxx chuckled at me. I hated him!

I slowly, awkwardly stroked him once over the briefs. Twice. A third time. I could feel it shifting and stiffening beneath my fingers. I traced them up along the shaft, feeling his veins, long bumps on the sides. They finally slipped longingly off the ridge of his mushroom head, too skittish to touch the head, before slowly returning to the bottom of to begin again. A shiver started from my neck where Jaxx massaged me, running down my spine to my hips, and I suddenly became aware of my own, tiny erection, straining against the tight panties under my dark sweatpants. Blood rose in my cheeks from shame. Jaxx was dominating me in public, forcing me to fondle his disgusting genitals. And I wasn't just doing it—I was turned on.

Jaxx must have sensed my weakness, because he pounced.

"I know you're a little fucking slut. Cindy's told me all about it."

I was too overwhelmed to even register the significance of his second statement. Then he distracted me even more. He looped his thumb under the waistband of his underwear, pulling it up a few inches and letting his menacing weapon fall out to lie rigid up nearly to his abs. It was swollen and angry looking in the shadows cast by the desk. There was a fat drop of pre-cum sitting at his head that made me want to look away and get closer at the same time.

"Stop lying to yourself. Help me out, roomie."

His voice was still directly in my ear. Almost a whisper, it had a seductive urgency, a command with steel in it enhanced by his low volume. I closed my eyes again and imagined his steely grey eyes and the earnest look he'd given me before. Maybe this was what I had to do.

Maybe Jaxx would like me if I did this for him.

Maybe he would look at me like that more often.

So I maneuvered under and around the folded desk, before sliding my hand down his rock solid chest and stomach, marveling at the strength that oozed from his awe-inspiring physique. His muscles were as hard as bone, and I trembled as I felt him flex and tense his groin. Then my hand made contact with his bulbous tip, and I shuddered uncontrollably at how much hotter it was skin-to-skin. I lightly brushed to tip, marveling at its size, before squeezing my hand to disappear further inside his athletic shorts, and he let the waistband snap quietly back into place, distended around my wrist.

It was awkward to move my hand, stuffed as it was into his tight underwear with most of the room already taken up. But I could ignore the awkwardness, because now I had his broad, spongy head in my palm, my fingers resting on a small portion of his long, turgid shaft. As I slowly began to stroke along his length, I revelled in the heat of his flushed member. I almost didn't recognise my voice murmuring softly,

"Sooo... Big..."

Jaxx chuckled again at my lack of self control, but I didn't notice. There was just so much of it, it was blowing my mind. Finally, my hand came to the base of his cock and met the fleshy folds of his sack. I almost giggled in glee—I had mixed feelings about his dick, but there was no mistaking my joy in his nuts. I was beyond shame as I groped and played with his ridiculously heavy, hot dangling balls. I let his skin flow through my fingers, dropping and tugging lightly and cradling the two weighty spheres. I was rewarded by a soft, deep groan. I felt strangely vindicated by his noise; he was definitely enjoying it. My handiwork. His voice crooned in my ear,

"Work my shaft, slut..."

The words brought a new blush to my face. He was right. I was being a slut, I couldn't control myself. And the thoughts only made the situation more hot, stiffened my little penis further, stole the last shreds of my self-control and replaced it with lust. I gave his balls one last soft parting squeeze before reluctantly sliding my hand back up mid-shaft. My hand was at an awkward angle, but wrapped around his thick tool, still swaddled in the tight fabric of his underwear. I slowly began masturbating him, feeling his skin roll and stretch, passing over bumpy veins and at the top of every stroke the flared edges of his mushroom. He groaned again, this time even softer but drawn out, and I buried my head into his chest, trying desperately to resist the pull of my other hand to my own crotch.

I don't know how long I spent like that. I totally forgot about the professor and his lecture, the other students, my fear and hatred for Jaxx, my dignity and manhood. I was just focused on resisting the urge to jerk myself off and savoring the feeling of his smoldering rock hard dick and the unassailable protection of being held by strong arm against strapping chest. It was easy to forget about everything else; somehow, being in Jaxx's hold made his words more real. 'Dont be afraid,' he'd said, 'I got you.' And he did have me. My wants, my fears, and my worries were all washed away and replaced with one thought, one purpose; his cock. It was comforting to focus on the repetitive motions of my hand, the now dull heat of the thick meat clutched in my grasp. His breathing was regular and calm, punctuated every once in a while by a grunt or words of encouragement: 'fuck yeah,' 'good slut,' a simple 'unnnnghh.' Each forced yet another blush to my cheeks and brought a rush of shameful pride that made me draw closer against his broad chest.