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Tutor Vetting [Whole Story]
🕑 Added 2019-02-15 04:17:57 +0000 UTCTutor Vetting
Synopsis: Carl enjoys the prospect of becoming a college tutor. During a competitive interview process, a likely foe takes aim at Carl's credentials with a trick up his sleeve.
College was expensive and Carl knew of only one way to soften the blow… working a few shifts at the campus tutoring center. “Just a few hours a week, it’ll be easy.”
After obtaining a well-deserved sign-off from his professors, Carl marched his paperwork over to the admin building. While there, he met Joe. Joe was similar to Carl in one regard: They were both classic geeks. Both were lanky in body structure, lacked masculine traits, and sported an obvious passion for learning.
The two nerds sat in chairs side-by-side while they waited to be interviewed. There were many others cycling in and out of the interview room and Joe made the observation that, “Spaces might be limited.” Carl turned to Joe as the stranger he was and replied, “Yea but I’ve got a 4.0 GPA and a rec letter from my department chair, I shouldn’t have a problem.”
Unaware to Carl, Joe was in possession of a magical ‘dumbing down’ spray that he created with his extensive knowledge of chemistry. Many sleepless nights and lab hours led to the creation of a spray that slowed the mind and grew the body with testosterone. Joe created the spray in the event that he came across somebody smarter than him.
Silently of course, Joe calculated his move. “The spray will kill his mind and turn him into a hairy, horny jock.” … “Just yet to be tested…”
Joe rustled around in his bag. He pulled out the spray and ‘accidentally’ faced it in the wrong direction on purpose before letting some spray out.
A quick sorry – “Oh sorry man, stupid container!”
Carl coughed a few times as he waved his hands to clear the air. “What was that?!”
Joe was apologetic. “Sorry, new body spray. It’s hard to see sometimes!”
Carl was annoyed but quickly got over the minty smell. His mind was solely fixed on nailing the interview in order to become a paid, official college tutor. Finally, his name was called. As annoyed as Carl was with Joe’s inconsiderate spraying, he held his head high as he followed the student volunteer to an interview table.
Three college department chairs shot off a line of questioning to a very ready Carl. He answered them with poise, although toward the end Carl began fighting off a headache. At the conclusion of twenty minutes, the lead interviewer informed Carl of the second and final stage of the interview process…
“We will observe a mock session with another applicant. You will tutor him and we will see how you perform.”
“Oh, alright.” Carl left the room and walked into a private room separated by mirror-glass they pointed to. It became apparent they would be watching.
Carl set eyes on the contents of the new room and sitting there before him was Joe… again. Joe was sitting, pulled up close to the desk. Carl took a seat on the other side.
“Hey Carl! They want me to play dumb for ya and have you tutor me about something?” Joe eagerly reported.
“Yep,” Carl reluctantly answered.
Carl dreaded with annoyance that he would have to interact further with the guy who always seemed full of himself… the guy named Joe.
* * *
Joe began the simulated act. “I need help with my economics class.”
Carl felt a surge of confidence as he accessed his memory of taking many business courses. It was his major. “Yea, sure. Lucky for you I’ve taken many econ courses. What’s hard for you?”
Joe pulled out a notepad with a list of things on it. “I’m having problems with the fundamental terms like micro and macroeconomics. What’s the difference?”
“Oh, easy!” Carl began to form the sentence in his head and suddenly it vanished. All of what he was about to say zapped free from the tongue…
“It’s uh- The difference is-“
“Wait I know this! I don’t know why…” Carl felt embarrassed as he lacked the memory-recall to respond.
A rush of heat took over his body and he scratched at his armpit for a second. The shirt he wore seemed to constrict his movement now. “Do- do you think I can use the bathroom?”
“Uh, sure man. We can continue when you get back right where we left off.” Joe had a particular tone of understanding and it freaked Carl out…
Carl thought, “Fuck this guy, he’s getting in my head… and jeez I need to splash some water on my face….”
On his way out of the main interview room, Carl saw the disappointed looks of the moderators as they marked notes on their papers. They didn’t utter a word to him on his way to the hallway.
“Ugh finally!” Carl pushed the door closed faster than the stopper allowed as he aired out his shirt by fanning it within the bathroom. “I’m so hot!”
Carl looked in the mirror and saw his reflection. Underneath the shallow yet glistening layer of sweat above his lip he saw a darker version of his normal peach fuzz growing in. He began scratching at it to verify its realness. Sure enough, the tiny hairs were multiplying around his whole face. At the same time, the constricting nature of his clothes only increased, especially in the chest and groin now.
In a mini freak out, Carl paced the bathroom as he tried to make sense of his memory loss. As he stopped every few steps to tend to a scratch in his crotch, Carl felt his cock fill with blood to eventually form a chub in his pants. Through the fabric of his pants, even Carl didn’t recognize the apparent growth in bulge size. “Is that my dick?”
Carl grabbed at his crotch and bulge a few times while standing at the mirror. The longer he stood there (now a couple minutes) the more he was getting turned on from the contact. Against his better judgment, Carl shoved a hand down his waistband and began groping himself. “Aw fuck, it feels---"
Immediately out of nowhere the bathroom door swung open and an older man proceeded to enter and use the bathroom. The man gave Carl a dirty look after he saw him with his hands down his pants. Carl snapped them out but the damage was done. Full of humiliation, Carl began washing his hands. A sudden burp escaped his mouth and it surprised him so much that he yelled a quick, “Fuck!”
Out of the corner of his eye, Carl saw the older man shaking his head. For some reason this made Carl want to say something…
“Yea? What?” Carl said with a strong tone of annoyance.
The man was finished his business and faced Carl now… “You shouldn’t spend so much time in here during tutoring.”
To which Carl replied… “It’s just an interview!” It sounded arrogant.
At this point, the older gentleman left as fast as he arrived, leaving just Carl alone. Carl gathered himself and made a dart for the door, opting to ditch the button down shirt in favor of just his t-shirt. “Gotta get back to tutoring, gotta get back.”
Carl approached a series of doors in a hallway but paused because he forgot which door contained the interviewers, such esteemed individuals, comprised of department chairs and deans… who were waiting for him. Quickly he found a staffer, or somebody dressed in a uniform of some kind. “Heyuh, which room is the tutoring in?”
The woman, dressed in a conservative style dress, pointed to the middle door of the three. Carl thanked the woman and hurried on his way. Once in, the moderators stopped him before he could get back to Joe. They told Carl that they’ve seen enough and would like Joe to have a turn tutoring.
“Are you sure you have enough- stuff?” Carl blurted out, with a tug at his groin also, to readjust a dick that kept inching up in size.
The staff gestured toward the private study room where Joe had been waiting. Carl’s slowed mind took extra seconds to connect the dots. “Oh!” Carl sped walked over to the familiar room and desk that sat Joe.
* * *
“You ready?” Joe asked the returning Carl.
“Yea…” Carl took his seat. “This should be pretty easy, right?”
Carl came off as annoyed, perhaps arrogant in his question. The insane anxiety about beating Joe at anything related to tutoring came to the forefront of Carl’s mind.
Carl vowed silently to himself, “I’ll really make him look pathetic.”
Joe then set things in motion, knowing full well his spray would be nearing the completion phase. He asked, “So I hear you’ve been having issues with math?”
Carl repulsed over the mock-remarks. Carl thought, “I know plenty of math shit. I’ve been in tons of math classes for business.”
Joe started with a topic: “Let’s go over the pythagorean theorem.”
Carl knew all about the pythagorean theorem but all he could focus in on was the tightening of his pants, along with continued itching.
“Pythagorean theorem…”
“Yes…”
“I know it’s with triangles. I know all about it.” Carl got out.
Joe changed the subject for a second when he saw Carl hesitate and scratch at his pits…
“It’s okay man. We can go over from the beginning.”
Carl, angered now, huffed and puffed. Joe started a fundamental discussion…
“In mathematics, the Pythagorean theorem is a fundamental relation in geometry among the three sides of a right triangle. It states that the square of the hypotenuse (the side opposite the right angle) is equal to the sum of the squares of the other two sides.”
Carl zoned out. He lost his concentration after the first words. In thought he kept repeating the same thing on loop:
“Who does this guy think he is, trying to tutor ME!”
“Fuck it’s hot in here! I want to get out of here and run around!”
“My cock… it feels all-hella big…”
All the sudden Carl zoned in on Joe… “Hey man, you paying attention??”
Carl had zoned out for minutes, not seconds.
Joe looked straight at Carl popping a boner in his pants with pit hair flying out of his t-shirt. His muscles were bloated and stretching his sleeves short. He thought, “He outta be nearing the final stage. I’ll meet him in the bathroom, this’ll be fun…”
“We’re done.”
“Yea, finally!” Carl stated rather bluntly, reeling from his mental anguish.
Carl went to go stand up but found his pants to be of utmost discomfort. Carl’s dick was practically fully hard and likely topping 9-inches by now. Even after tugging at the fabric and situating himself, the shape was obvious. “Gotta get out of here!” … “The bathroom!”
* * *
Carl undid his pant zipper in the stall and let his dick fly out…
“Fucking shit!” … “Aw fuck my voice-uhhhm,” Carl thought his voice sounded dumb.
Carl didn’t even hear Joe enter the bathroom but found the little devil right behind him, standing.
“The fuck?!----” Carl had his mouth covered by Joe’s unusually strong hand strength.
Joe, the dweeb he is, shockingly had no problem pushing Carl down to the bathroom floor so that he was sitting with his legs all sprawled out and powerless.
“Let me tell you what I did to you.” As Joe said it, Carl’s lazy eyes traveled to meet Joe’s.
“I’m about to jerk this big dick of yours off… and when I do, you’ll be this dumb, unintelligent, horny and hairy motherfucker forever.”
A part of Carl’s mind was screaming, but the overpowering sensations of Joe’s soft hand on his dick had him aching for more. “Aw fuck man I dun- wanna be like- you gotta stop.”
Carl’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as his balls finalized the release of new dumb-jock sperm. Joe pointed Carl’s new huge dick up toward his face so that he’d cream himself and make a mess over himself.
“C’mon big dude, nut and be dumb. Nut and be dumb.”
Carl’s grunts and groans were accompanied with muscle spasms and a surge of hair growth around his balls and chest.
“Oh fuck I’m gunna cum.”
Joe let go of Carl and watched as a geyser of cum flew up and out of Carl’s dick and all over his chest and face. Carl made a moan and then cursed up a storm.
“Aw fuck, aw…”
Joe stood up and proceeded to leave. “You’re gross!”
Carl could not fathom the consequence of his ‘accident’ but he cleaned himself off with a little towel. He smelled of pure cum when he threw his t-shirt back on. After shoving his sticky dick back into his tight pants he left the building.
Not even fifteen minutes later Carl was standing outside the doors to his dorm watching guys of all type, but mainly small nerds…
“I bet one of them can tutor me and jerk my rod too…”
With a growing member once again forming, Carl entered his dorm. He’d forgotten about his best friend roommate, and fellow nerd………….
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