Trixie Tutor Time Trouble
You stand outside of the large, worn-looking wooden cabin. It wasn’t really a cabin, but in fact, a wagon without wheels or something to connect to a horse.
Shaking your head a little you return to look down at the address you’d been given. The small plaque on the step said it, but you couldn’t believe that this was someone’s house. Not to say you lived in some mansion, but you at least had an apartment. You felt a bit bad, thinking that someone might be poor enough to be forced to live here.
But then again, when the name came up on the sheet it wasn’t that hard to believe. Trixie was notorious back in high school and you had to doubt that college changed her any. Then again, you’d been a bit of a pushover in high school yourself but you liked to think you’d changed.
Stepping up and lifting your hand, you take a deep breath and knock on the door. Being a tutor was tough, especially for college-level classes. It was easier in high school, but you never got payed for doing it back then.
You hear some scrambling and glasses clinking together behind the door as you knock. If she was a drunk, it wouldn't have been the first time you had to tutor someone hammered. You hear something bump against the door followed by a few seconds of silence.
"Who are you?" you heard the familiar voice call out.
“You hired a tutor? My name’s-" you start before getting cut off as the door is thrown open.
Trixie is wearing an actual wizard’s hat and cape along with her regular shirt and skirt. A normal person might laugh at the get-up, but you’re just glad she isn’t another frat bro. "Trixie doesn’t need your name. Step inside," she orders with a dramatic tone.
Rolling your eyes, you step inside as she moves out of the way. Though seemingly large from the outside, there was surprisingly little room for moving about. On both walls were large shelves filled with row after row of glass containers.
“Chemistry major, I presume?" you ask, looking for a desk.
"Alchemist. Trixie is far more than just a ‘chemist’. The desk is in the back room," Trixie responds proudly.
Looking around the room, you notice price tags lingering off of each bottle. The prices reached ludicrous heights, but some were surprisingly cheap for what they claimed.
Finding the desk she mentioned you set down your laptop and turn back to face her. It seemed you were correct about Trixie not changing, aside from the wardrobe. “So what is it you need help with exactly?" you ask, hoping to get this over with.
"Trixie needs help with Physics 101," she begrudgingly admits.
She kept looking at you with that same look of disdain, probably from embarrassment. Then again, if you remember correctly, Trixie was always an arrogant bully. You wish you could just tell her off, but you know better than to just stir up trouble.
“Very well. Any specific place you want help with?" you ask with a professional smile.
"Yes. Trixie’s homework, right there. She expects you’ll be done soon?" she says before turning around.
“Excuse me?" you ask in surprise. Did she honestly think that’s what tutors did?
"Trixie is far too busy with matters more important than trite homework," she sneered at the homework. How she could’ve gotten this far in life thinking that’s what tutors did?
“Listen, that’s not what-" you try and tell her.
"Trixie doesn’t care what your pamphlets say, she is too busy to do that work," she replies indignantly.
Moving past the door, you watch Trixie begin to organize some of her bottles. Shaking your head in disbelief, you put away your laptop and move for the door.
“Well, if you didn’t hire me for my job--are you even listening?" you ask out of frustration.
"Hmm? Will you stop complaining and get to work already?" she replies annoyed.
“No, I’m afraid I’ll be leaving now," you make for the door, a little glad at the briefness of the visit.
"What? But Trixie’s work remains undone!" she shouts as you move past her. As she does, she spins around on her heels, making her cape slide under your feet unnoticed.
Thankfully, there was only one bottle in her hand when you slip, and both of you fall. Falling forward with her behind you, you hit the floor with an incredibly hard thud. You groan in pain as Trixie lets out a gasp and you feel her kick your leg.
"You IDIOT! You made Trixie drop her potion and now we’re locked in!" she hisses at you.
“What? Why are we locked in?" you ask, rubbing your sore chin and spinning around. You lean against a shelf while Trixie does so with the opposite shelf and glares at you.
"Trixie works with volatile, dangerous concoctions. Whenever there’s a spill, the doors lock automatically," she says, jerking a thumb towards the spill.
“Great. So, how long do we have to stay in here?" you begrudgingly ask.
"12 hours, when the effects wear off," she says spitefully.
“A half a day? What the hell are you brewing?" you reply in shock.
"Trixie WAS reading the label," she says before looking at the pile of broken glass. Picking up a soggy piece of paper, she holds it up and reads the label before her face drops.
“What is it? Some kind of super poison? Mutating disease?" you nervously ask.
"No, far worse. It’s Trixie’s...’love’ potion," she says with air quotes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?" you say as she tosses you the label. You begin reading from the top, where a picture of Trixie’s hat tilted over a moon and wand shows it as hers. "Trixie’s ‘love’ potion, for that someone you want for less than a lifetime." Bringing it closer to your face, you try to make out what it claims to do. “I can’t read what it says it does. Do you know?" you say, still squinting at the paper.
"Of course Trixie knows! The effects, or symptoms more like it, include high body heat,
increased stamina--" she stops suddenly.
“And? What else?" you ask, putting down the label.
"The last two symptoms are the most potent. Sterilization and...increased labido," she says quickly.
“Sterilization? You made me freaking sterile?!" you ask pushing closer to her.
"Unfortunately for the population, no. The effects are temporary. Your stupid kids may yet come about," she sneers at you.
You rest your head on the shelf and sigh with relief. At least you could pretend this didn’t happen once you got out of here.
“Well great. Thanks for trapping me by the way," you sarcastically mumble at Trixie. Opening up your phone, you see there are no bars at all in this area.
"Trap YOU? Please, Trixie is not to blame for this. It was your fumbling feet that tripped Trixie!" she says with an accusatory finger point.
“Me? It was your messed-up potion!" you defend yourself.
"Trixie did nothing wrong! It was all your fault," she responds before childishly turning her head.
You do the same, looking to the door while wishing that it might magically open up. Time passes slowly inside of the small cabin, with minutes starting to feel like hours. Both of you had cleaned up the spill after about half an hour of bickering.
Soon, the potion’s effect on your body heat kicks in and both of you start sweating. You tug at your shirt collar and gaze up at the ceiling from your spot on the floor. Neither of you have moved out of mutual dislike of passing the other. Eventually, the heat becomes too much and you lean forward, grabbing the bottom of your shirt.
"What do you think you’re doing?” Trixie snaps at you.
“Trixie, it’s burning hot in here. I’m taking this off or I’ll melt," you half explain and half complain at her.
"Whatever, just don’t sweat on my shelves," she lets out a little less harshly than you had expected.
Removing your shirt, you see her head swiftly move away as your head comes out again. Did she just watch you strip? What did she think you were going to do, pull a gun? You're too hot to bring it up and relax your head against the shelf again.
Getting tired, you start to drift off when the sound of moving fabric catches your attention. Lowering your head, your eyes go wide as Trixie was halfway done with taking off her shirt. Her eyes snap towards you and her cheeks grow beet red while her eyes fill with rage. "L-LOOK AWAY YOU IDIOT!" she barks at you.
You cover your eyes and quickly move your head in the other direction, a blush burning on your face as well. “You could’ve warned me you were going to be stripping!" you return still in shock.
"Trixie shouldn’t have to tell you not to be a pervert," she says angrily.
.
“It’s not my fault you’re such a-" you turn back and stop yourself from getting on her level. Her shirt was now off completely, but she seemed to care more about your near-insult to her. The bra she wore was a deep black one which clung tightly to her sweaty chest.
"Such a what? Trixie demands to know what you think of her," she questions with a glare.
“No you don’t, trust me," you say before turning away from her again.
You can hear Trixie stand up behind you before you turn back to look at her still-angry face. "Oh yeah? Try Trixie," she challenges you.
You stand up, a few inches taller than her and move until you’re nearly in her face. The air between you two is charged from all of the anger that’s burning from you both. Instead of speaking you just glare down at Trixie for a few seconds before an odd thought comes into your head. Man, she’s got a cute face when she’s angry. Pulling back in shock, you have to remind your brain who exactly she was.
"Ha, Trixie knew you couldn’t do it. Trixie is surprised you didn’t just do her homework, since you’re such a pushover," Trixie mocks you behind your back.
“I went to high school with you. Do you seriously not remember me?" you ask rhetorically.
"No, Trixie does not often mix with those who are not as great as her," she says in a fake tone of coolness.
Whatever part of your brain that kept you back the previous times breaks at that comment. “You want to know what I thought then and sure as hell think now?" you say with fists clenched.
"What is it? You’re not going to cry, are you?" she jokes at you with a cocky smile.
“I think that you’re a bitch," you hiss at her. Suddenly, a wave of peace comes over you at the release of anger. “Wow, I never realized how good that felt. You’re a bitch, Trixie. Were before, probably always will be one!" you start to raise your voice, almost laughing now.
Trixie reels back in horror at the insult before getting closer towards you in a fury. "Trixie is not a bitch, you whiny neanderthal!" she barks at you.
Feeling the anger boil your blood again, you also get closer to Trixie to where your heads almost touched. “Yes you are, you’re a bitch! A stupid, arrogant, annoying BITCH!" you shout at her.
"Trixie doesn’t need to listen to a pathetically cute moron like you!" she hisses.
“And I don’t need to take that from such a hot clumsy dyke!" you return with equal venom.
Both of you breathe heavily in each other’s faces for a few tense seconds of silence. Suddenly, Trixie slaps you across the face with a loud smack. Grabbing your cheek, you do the same to her before both of you growl at each other.
And then you both suddenly leap into each other, making out heavily while wrapping your arms around one another.
The make-out lasts for a few seconds before Trixie pulls away and you both slap each other again. "Trixie hates you so damn much. Take your pants off," she breathes out angrily.
“Fuck you, you don’t tell me what to do, you bitch," you return, letting the vulgar words flow out of you.
"You are so beneath Trixie it makes her sick," she says as she starts to peel off her skirt. Dropping your pants as well, you both glare at each other from a few feet away before moving back together.
“I hate you so much right now," you say as you move close to her face. You start to make out while Trixie claws at your back with her fingers.
"The feeling is mutual," she pants out as you pull away from each other. Both of you spin into the bedroom, refusing to let the other go from their lips. She falls onto the bed and starts working on her bra while you get your underpants off. "Trixie bets you just can’t WAIT to fuck her, you savage," Trixie taunts at you.
“And I bet you can’t wait for me either, you cunt," you return angrily before falling onto the bed on top of her. Both of you scramble to take off your underwear, eager to show the other up.
"I’m going to fuck you until you can’t think," she moans at you, anger mixing with lust.
“And I’ll fuck you until you can’t even remember your name," you retort as you both finish taking off your underwear.
At this point, you and Trixie have both lost your anger to the heat of the moment and are now more concerned with another goal. You waste no time in placing your tip against Trixie’s slit and sliding it in as you rub her clit.
"Grab my tits already, you pussy!" she shouts at you.
“Don’t tell me what to do!" you shout back but soon find yourself fondling her.
Both of your bodies were already slick with sweat from the potion, and used this to help ease your writhing bodies’ motions. As her hands clawed at you, you start to thrust inside her. All the anger you felt bleeds into passion as you pound against her, making the bed shake. You picked up speed quickly, each successive thrust building to a higher pace.
"Harder!" she yells in an odd mix of pleasure and anger. Doing what she demands, you find yourself very conflicted in motive. Though, thrusting inside of Trixie made your mind start to melt from the bliss.
“Stop digging your hands into my back, you jackel," you work out through grit teeth.
Trixie ignores you and suddenly you feel the anger rise up again for a second. You grab her hands from behind your back and force them above her head on the bed. With you leaned forward and her arms up, you get an even better vantage point for thrusting into her.
She doesn’t fight you, in fact she seems even happier with the new position you put her in. Her hips start to move, aiding in your motions as you muscles start to burn. Each pound against her makes both of you breathe a little harder. Your pants start to match up as Trixie starts to moan and twist beneath you.
Finally, you feel her legs twitch against you and her arms suddenly go limp above her. Her orgasm seemed to rob her of any drive to aid you, so you slow down. Most likely for the best as you start to get close to finishing.
Taking your hands away from her wrists, you move one under her back and use the other for support. You lift Trixie’s surprisingly light body towards you and hold her there. She puts her chin on your shoulder, feeling it bounce up as you start your finishing thrusts. Her arms dangle down at her sides, but soon wrap around your back and lightly hold you.
Placing one on your head she turns hers to whisper breathlessly into your ear. "Cum inside Trixie," she manages, her anger gone for the time being. You would stop to say something about the sudden change in tone, but you’re more concerned with fulfilling the request.
With a few final thrusts, you let Trixie drop onto the soft bed as you make one final blow. Blasting her insides with your cum, you feel drained as each shot leaves you. Not a single drop falls out of her pussy, accepting each drop as openly as you give them. Finished, you fall onto Trixie’s chest before she lazily pushes you off of her.
Both of you lie there panting for a minute or so, with everything else being silent. "What...what time is it?” Trixie asks lethargically as she sits up and leans against the wall.
“5:15... according to that clock... on the wall," you manage to say between breaths.
"And when did you get here?" she follows up.
“Five o’clock," you say flatly, too worn out to add any other tone.
"So we still have 11 hours and 45 minutes left until you leave," she says more to herself than you.
“Yep. 11 hours and 45 more minutes of being trapped here with you," you say, sitting up as well.
“More like I’m trapped with you," she snaps, the spite returning. You sit with your back against the headboard, glaring at each other from across the bed.
“Hey, it’s not like I WANT to be here on your bed or anything," you point out to her.
"Trixie could be working! Not just staying in bed, having wild sex!" she growls at you.
“Oh and I’m different? I was supposed to get paid to tutor! Not fuck a hot chick inside her house for half a day!" you nearly shout at her. Both of you glare at each other in silence before she moves off of the bed and you do the same.
“Trixie hates your stupid sexy ass and your cute body," she says with fire in her eyes.
“I hate YOUR sexy ass and that awesome chest of yours, too!" you growl at her.
“Fine then, I guess we’re done here!” Trixie barks before turning around. You look down at her round ass and stare for a moment.
“Yeah, go ahead then! Like I care if we just wait here for the rest of the time,” you reply angrily as you turn around as well. You breathe heavily out of anger but soon start gulping again as sweat builds up on your forehead.
Struggling not to turn around, you clench and your fists at your sides. Trixie clears her throat behind you, prompting you to turn around again. Seeing her bare back only gets you even more excited. As soon as she starts speaking, you turn your head back around.
“Trixie...Trixie thinks it might get boring here faster than she thought,” she replies shakily.
“Y-yeah, pretty boring. That’s all I’m getting right now, nothing else,” you lie.
Your breathing picks up again as another wave of hot air makes you wipe your hand down your body. Wiping sweat from your brow, it becomes clear Trixie is panting as well.
“Maybe...maybe Trixie will let you have sex with her again. O-only to pass the time, of course,” she finishes with a strict tone.
“Yeah, no other reasons,” you agree, forgetting the rivalry with her for a moment.
Neither of you make any move to turn around for some reason despite you both agreeing to do something. “Well? Why aren’t we doing anything?” she asks impatiently.
“Well, we only started last time because we got in a fight...” you drift off, not sure what you were implying.
The realization hits both of you at the same time, prompting you to both stop breathing for a single moment. Turning around at the same time, you see Trixie grow a fire in her eyes again. Good thing you both were on equal terms now.
“Trixie thinks you have a pathetic job and no backbone,” she insults you, stalking forward aggressively. The way she moves, you watch beads of sweat roll over her bust. Her hips sway seductively with each step, pushing you to rise to her challenge.
“The fact a grown woman lives in a wagon and wears cheap magician gear is downright depressing,” you retort, making yourself taller and pushing out your chest a little.
“You love Trixie’s hat and cape,” she tells you, poking a finger in your chest. You grab her hand and pull her closer until you're inches away from her face.
“I would only say I like them if they were all you were wearing,” you sneer at her.
Her eyes light up at this statement. “Oh yeah? Prove it,” she challenges.
Letting go of her hand, you dash back to the other room and snatch up her gear, leaving the unneeded shirt and underwear behind as you do. Returning to the room, you toss the hat and cape at her angrily. “Put them on and we’ll see then,” you say.
“Trixie would love too” she replies sarcastically as she puts the hat and cape on.
“Yeah you would,” you reply, moving towards her and pulling her towards you.
“God, you’re an asshole. Kiss me,” she demands.
“Of course, you arrogant bitch,” you reply before starting to make out.
