Chapter 2

It was all I could do to not scream out from the tickling as his rough fingers swiped at my soft arches. He was much bigger and stronger than me so I felt that all I could do was wait him out.

He mercifully stopped tickling me, stood up and said, “Thanks for letting me check them out. There’s nothing like seeing performance results with your own eyes. And thanks for the gift. I appreciate it.” He took my used dirty socks with him and left me there barefoot on my bed.

When I made him the offer, I had meant a clean pair. I watched as he put his newly acquired socks in his drawer with his other clean laundry and not in his dirty laundry basket in the closet. His weirdness was really starting to creep me out.

One night I was at my desk studying before a big test and he stood behind me massaging my neck and shoulders. He said that being relaxed is just as important for test performance as studying is. He said he was good at this and would be happy to give me a full-body massage. I again thanked him for the offer but declined. What was wrong with this guy? It occurred to me that Chuck had the size and physical ability to pick me up and carry me over to the bed, pin me down and force his massage on me if he really wanted to. From that moment on, I spent as little time as possible in our room. I studied in the library and hung out in my friends’ rooms more and more. Time marched on and we neared the end of the semester.

Fast forward to last night, the night of “the incident”:

I usually ate dinner in the dining hall with my friends. On this day, however, I had an extra lab that ran unusually late. By the time I made it to dinner, all of my friends were done and gone. The dining hall was mostly empty so I took my tray and sat alone at a table. After a couple of minutes I felt a presence. I looked up and Chuck was standing at my table holding a tray of his own. He and I never dined together, but the big, almost empty room and my still nearly full plate of food left me with no excuses. Chuck sat down and joined me.

He observed, “Hey, I sure haven’t seen much of you lately. You’ve been leaving earlier and coming back later every day.”

I replied, “Yeah, I know. Sorry about that but I’ve taken to studying in the library where all of the resources I need are right there.”

He said, “Oh, is that what it is? I was starting to think it was me,” he forced a laugh.

“No, it’s not you,” I lied and smiled uncomfortably.

Chuck said, “Hey check it out. I’m wearing the socks you gave me.”

Suddenly his socked right foot was out of his Croc and on my chair, between my legs right in my crotch. I instinctively slid my chair my chair back. I jumped up and said, “I need more napkins.”

When I returned, his foot was off of my chair and safely back in its Croc. We finished dinner quietly and without further incident. It was not too late and I had intended to go spend some time with my friends. I stood up, ready to part ways with Chuck and I became suddenly dizzy and nauseous. Chuck saw me sway, jumped up and grabbed ahold of my arm to steady me.

He asked, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

I said, “I don’t know. I don’t feel so good.”

He said, “Maybe it was something you ate. Let me help you back to our room.”

I protested, “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.” I bent down to pick up my backpack and that was big mistake. The room tilted and if Chuck hadn’t still been holding my arm, I would have found myself splayed out on the floor.

Chuck said, “I can’t leave you here. You need help. Let me get you back to the room and we’ll figure out what to do.”

I nodded in agreement. What choice did I have? Chuck lifted my backpack in his right hand and held my arm firmly in his left.

Walking was proving to be nearly impossible and Chuck ended up slinging my backpack over his shoulder and carrying me the last portion of the journey. All I could do is wrap my arms around his neck and hold on while trying to keep my eyes closed as much as possible. It was around 9:00pm and the halls were not crowded. One small group looked at us questioningly and Chuck told them that I had “overdone it” tonight. They seemed to accept that answer and moved on.

We finally made it to our room and Chuck carried me across the threshold like I was his bride on our wedding night. He gently laid me down on my back on my bed and went back to door. He closed it and flipped the lock.

He walked back over to me and asked, “Do think you’re gonna puke?”

I thought about it and said, “No, I’m just really tired all of the sudden.” The world was spinning and I needed to keep my eyes closed.

I heard him move the garbage can next to my bed as he said, “Just in case…”

I couldn’t see, but I felt Chuck begin to untie my shoes. “Let me help you out there buddy. I know you can’t sleep in clothes.”

Suddenly I felt like I couldn’t move or even talk. I attempted to speak and nothing happened. I tried to move and the room spun. What was going on? Was I really sick or did he put something in my food when I had gotten up from the table?

I felt my socks slide off next. I had a flash of memory of that day when he had feigned interest in my socks, stripped my feet bare and embarrassed me by smelling and tickling them. Laying here now with him standing over my naked feet at the foot of the bed, what was he going to do to me now? I was powerless to protest. He was going to do what he was going to do. Surprisingly, he left my feet alone.

I felt the bed sink from his weight as he sat down next to me. He began to unbutton my shirt. He took his time doing this and after releasing the final button, he spread it open. For a long minute I felt nothing but the cool air of the room and the stare of his eyes on my bare skin. Finally, he eased my arms out of my sleeves and dropped my shirt to the floor. He stood up, stepped away and I heard the water running. The water stopped and I soon felt a cool wet washcloth being placed on my forehead. Like I was his sick child, he rubbed my temples and told me I’d feel better in the morning. He unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, moved to the foot of the bed and pulled my pants off.

I laid there in nothing but my boxers, vulnerable, still hardly able to move or even open my eyes. I was fearful of what Chuck was planning to next, as he stood over my mostly naked body, but nothing happened. I felt him spread my blanket over me and then the light in room turned off. I heard him readying himself for bed. His bedsprings protested slightly against his weight. He was just going to sleep. He had ample opportunity but he did nothing harmful or even inappropriate. Was he really just being helpful? Like a real friend? No sounds came from Chuck’s side of the room and I finally un-tensed my body. It was only a few minutes until I fell into a troubled, shallow sleep.

I found myself drifting in and out of restless sleep that was filled with bizarre dreams. The nausea had mostly passed, but I was still a little dizzy and I still couldn’t seem to open my eyes. At some point in the middle of night, something woke me up. I thought I felt motion at the foot of my bed. The blanket had lifted up momentarily and I felt the air of the room on my skin. Suddenly there two hands on my feet. Two rough, strong hands and they were massaging my feet. I tried to move my legs, but it was like they were frozen in place. Those hands worked their way up and down the soles of my feet, not tickling me, but kneading and rubbing. Fingers wiggled on the balls of my feet and then each toe was individually worked.

Eventually the intruding hands began to work their way up my ankles, my shins and my calves. They continued to move northbound, passed my knees and up my thighs. I tried to say something but nothing happened. I tried to scream out but the sound was empty. Everything that was happening was like a dream but the touch seemed so real. The hands continued to work their way up my thighs and ultimately, inside of the legs of my boxers. As those hands got higher, there was more weight on my bed. I was not alone under this blanket.

The fingers hit brain and I felt a tightening in response. The hands slipped out of my boxers and pulled them down to my knees. The hands made new contact with my body by my hips and they began to explore my abdomen. It was like a blind person using their hands to see. They felt all of my contours and inspected my concave navel before traveling further north and giving my nipples some gentle tweaks. Those guilty hands found my armpits and strummed their way down my ribs, then across my lower belly. Goosebumps popped up all over my body and I assumed my assailant would be pleased at having elicited a response.

Goosebumps weren’t the only response. I was beginning to get hard. Those culprit hands hadn’t discovered my penis yet, but my emerging erection was an involuntary situation. I couldn’t move my body but apparently my cock had a mind of its own. Suddenly the violating hands found my growing rod. The best I could manage was a slight flinch from the shock of the touch. They stroked me up and down and within about all of ten seconds, I was throbbing at full mast. Those amazing hands worked gentle strokes initially that became faster and harder with each pass. It wasn’t long before they were working my cock like a piece of farm equipment. Just when I thought I was about to blow my load, the hands disappeared and I was left on the edge.

I had been having bad, weird dreams all night. Was this just another dream? An erotic dream, but a dream nonetheless? Though I had almost no control over my body, my mind felt lucid. What was going on? Was this the work of Chuck? He was a weird and creepy guy but was he capable of this? Had someone else broken into our room and began an assault on me? Was Chuck innocently sleeping across the room in his own bed? Or was all of this not real, just in my head? I did not know.