My First Year in College

Tyler is a freshman student at Creepside College. Gay and closeted, he has some troubles controlling his urges surrounded by frat guys, sexy professors, his hot brother and most importantly, his stunning straight roommate: Austin. The story is divided into 2 main parts - semester 1 (ch. 1 to ch 12) - semester 2 (ch. 13 to ch. 24).

WARNING: This chapter is "heavier" than the previous ones. It is way more focused on the plot of the story rather than the erotic aspect of it. This chapter is intended for people who have followed Tyler's journey so far. It also deals with difficult subjects, such as rape, consent and coming out. Reminder: this is only Tyler's views on the situation and I'm not in any way implying that Tyler's reasoning, or his experience on consent, is "right". This is pure fiction. That being said, enjoy your reading.

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My First Year in College.

Chapter 18: Crash into me

That night, I could not sleep. Of course, I could not sleep. The man who took my virginity had been arrested by the police. Nobody knew I had sex with him. Nobody even knew I was gay. He was accused of raping a male student, potentially several male students... Austin seemed excited by the story. Who were the students? What did he do? Who was the first victim to talk?

While everyone discussed it in the hall earlier, I pretended to feel ill -- it was a half-lie as I was feeling sick to my stomach -- and went directly to bed.

Should I say something? To whom? Would anyone find out? If so, would my life be over? And was it true? Did Professor Fletcher really molest or rape someone? Several guys? My stomach was hurting. "Consent is very important to me", he said the night he fucked me. Was it really? Would he have let me go if I had refused to continue to play his game? Did I really consent?

The next day, I was the shadow of myself. I needed to talk but I could not talk, to anyone, it was too serious. I pretended as best as I could to act normal, saying I had a cold. I was so afraid that people, Austin in particular, would link my current state to the fact that Professor Fletcher was arrested.

Everyone at College was talking about it, television journalists were standing nearby, and already, numerous headlines had come out: "Renown College Professor accused of abusing his power and raping his students!" "Constitutional Laws Professor fuck male students on the side: his house searched!" "Rapist Professor attack young college guys! The Police is investigating."

Although, no one knew much more than a sophomore college student had been found wondering outside of Fletcher's house, crying, before confessing he had just been raped by his teacher.

I could not eat anything and at the end of the day, I felt drained. Austin proposed to jerk off to some porn, I refused. Who would have thought I would ever refuse such a proposal? "I'm still feeling sick." I replied. He masturbated anyway, not trying to cover himself, just fully naked on his bed, his earphones plugged in, enjoying content from an Onlyfans girl. I wondered if she was the same girl he had mentioned on the forum's post I had read the day before but I could not care anymore.

I watched him cum all over his muscular and hairy chest and I could not even get hard. He slept naked.

Should I go see the dean of the University? The police? To say what? That Professor Fletcher was a pervert who abused me or to say that on the contrary, he was very considerate of my consent?

I thought it through. I kept on replaying the last day of the first semester in my head: the way he had proposed we have sex, the slap he gave me inside of his classroom to assert his dominance, the way he had taken my virginity, roughly, violently. Did he abuse me?

He did not abuse me.

I consented to everything.

He was harsh. Rough. He dominated me.

But I wanted this. I loved this. If he would have let me, I would have come back there. It was too much at time but once it was done, I only wanted to go back there for round 2. To feel his dick in me, again. I had not had sex since then.

Again, I almost had 0 sleep the following night but the next day would be worse, much worse. The worst day of my life.

I was in my history class when things definitely took a turn. At first, I did not pay attention to the persistent looks on me or people giggling and whispering. I was semi falling asleep in class when my phone started to vibrate a lot, who could text me that much? One of the texts was from Janice, she was sitting a couple rows behind me.

"The pictures are out... You should leave now; they are all looking at it!" the text reads.

What the hell was she talking about? I turned towards her, she seemed very concerned, almost on the verge on crying. Was she one of the victims? Around her, people were definitely watching me, smiling or making weird, even disgusting, faces.

What the fuck?

My phone vibrated some more. A lot more. I got worried. I was so tired at the same time; I could not think straight.

The guy sitting next to me gave me a tap on the shoulder.

"Man."

I looked at him. We had never talked before.

"What?"

He pointed out to a computer screen in the front rows.

I could have died right there, sitting in my history class. My own face was looking right back at me on that girl computer's screen. My face, full of sperm, on a Polaroid picture. A picture signed with my name "Tyler Braxton". My whole body started to shake nervously and heavily. The guy next to me did not know how to react and the Professor caught up that something unusual was happening.

"Guys, could you concentrate a bit please? What's going on with you today?"

Tears came out of my eyes. I could not control them in any way. I could not control myself. I was having a panic attack. A very strong one.

Suddenly I felt the hand of Janice on my arm.

"Professor, Tyler is not feeling well" some of the guys in the last row busted out laughing. Without waiting for the History teacher to answer, she took me by the arm and sort of evacuated me from the classroom. It was all the blur for me until we reached a silent corridor.

She was holding me while talking but I could only hear half of the stuff she was saying:

"Oh god.... Ty! (...) What did he do to you (...) Oh god... Hundreds of files have leaked this morning (...) Just insane! (...) It's not just you (...) You need to see a doctor (...) Ty?"

I could not speak. What would I have said anyway? The entire College was watching a photograph of me drenched in my Laws Professor's cum. A photo I had proudly signed. With my full name. HOW COULD I HAVE EVER BEEN SO STUPID?

My phone kept vibrating. My body kept on shaking. I was pretty sure my head was about to explode. I felt like I was coming out of my own body.

I tried to come back to myself. To calm down. Janice was doing everything that she could but I was not there with her.

"Look, let's go to the College doctor (...) You cannot (...) Or the police? Should we go to the police?"

The police...

"No." I finally said. Snapping back.

"Are you sure?"

"I am sure." I paused a few seconds and focused back on Janice. "Thank you for being here." I was genuinely glad she was the one on my side.

"Ok. What do you want to do Ty? Should we call your parents I don't know..."

"NO!" This time, I shouted. My parents. Was she crazy?

"Ok, Ok, Ty. This is going to be fine. There are tons of other guys in those files. This is way beyond you... And you're just a victim here... It's just a picture."

At that point, three people walked towards us. The dean of the University, a woman I had only seen in photographs before, accompanied by a man who looked like a cop and another man that I did not know. The three of them looked worried.

"Tyler Braxton?" The dean asked.

"Yes."

"Would you come with us?"

I looked at Janice and then looked at them. Janice was tearing up as well.

"Yes, sure." I replied. What else could I do?

Janice gave me back my bag and I followed the group to the dean's office. I checked my phone during the walk, the messages kept on coming. "Fag" I read from an unknown number. This could not be real. This could not be happening. I saw a text from my brother but I could not read it in the flow of messages. Did he know? Already? I saw multiple texts from Austin: "Tyler, please call me!!!". Austin had seen the picture.

A few minutes later, I was in an office facing the dean. The man I did not know introduced himself as a psychologist, Dr. Harrison and sat beside me. The cop was just standing there.

"Tyler. Are you aware that Professor Fletcher has been arrested a couple days ago?" The tone of the dean was firm. She was a direct woman. She had no time to lose.

"Yes."

"A student has claimed he was raped by Professor Fletcher." She continued.

"I heard."

"Ok then. Today, we do not know how, but some of the files found at Professor Fletcher's place and held by the police" - She looked at the cop as if she was about to kill him -- "were published online. One of these files is signed by your name. Tyler, it is a photograph of you."

"I know." My voice broke and a tear slid down my cheek.

"Tyler", the psychologist intervened. "We know this is overwhelming and please do understand that we are here to help you. Only to help you." He marked a pause, scanning me with his green eyes behind his glasses. In other circumstances I would have found him hot. "In this room, no one is judging you. You don't need to talk. We just want to offer you our full support. To help you, if, and only if, you want to talk or..." He looked at the cop "...file a complaint."

"We are doing everything that we can to remove those files from the internet". Said the dean.

"What do I have to do?" I asked.

"Nothing." Said Dr. Harrison. "You are not required to do anything."

"We do need to know what happen." The dean spoke over the psychologist. She did not have time to deal with mental health apparently, it was a situation of crisis. The cop was still silent. Was I being interrogated?

"Do I need a lawyer?" I asked stupidly.

The dean seemed surprised. "We believe that you are a victim here. Not an offender."

"I'm not a victim." I needed to state that truth.

"You can ask a lawyer to help you out regarding the invasion of your privacy and the photograph leaking." Said the psychologist. "You can also ask a lawyer to help you press charges against Professor Fletcher."

"In any case, those expanses would be entirely supported by the College." The dean added. "I, and the entire College board, are taking what happened very seriously and, in this matter, I intend to be fully and without any condition on the side of the students."

I remained silent. I had a feeling the "side" taken for the students was not an easy decision to make. Then the Dean spoke again.

"Tyler, was it consensual? You relationship with Professor Fletcher?" She looked at me intensely. I tried to drink some water but I was shaking so much I could not hold the glass in my hand.

I thought about my answer but my brain was a blur.

"Take your time." I heard someone say.

For one split second, I thought that I could say that I was raped, that I could go back to my family, to Austin and say that I would have never consented to a man cumming on my face. I could keep on with my charade on being straight.

"Everything was consensual. I wanted this." I replied, speaking clearly and firmly this time.

The cop talked for the first time.

"Are you sure?"

I could not say why but it was this question which pushed me to the edge. I started screaming:

"AM I SURE?! Of course, I am sure! I think I would know if someone had raped me! I had sex with him but I had agreed to it! To all of it."

"Ok Tyler, but did your professor use his authority, his power to make you do things that..."

"HE DID NOT MAKE ME DO ANYTHING I DID NOT WANT TO." I had stood up. Everyone looked scared now. I regretted my outburst and I tried to calm down. "It happened after the class was over. I did not do it to get anything in return, to get good grades or anything. He asked me several times if I wanted this and every time I said yes. I'm an adult. I agreed to everything we did"

"Who came on to who?" Asked the dean.

"What does that matter? I'm telling you I was ok with it! Do I really need to answer those questions?"

"No, you don't." Settled the psychologist with a calm and deep voice.

I was starting to feel like puking but the discussion continued and I sat back down. They no longer asked me such direct questions but they still wanted to know more. Sometimes, other people came in the room, or the Dean had to come out to answer phone calls. There were talks about the press, communication plan, the legal procedure, my own mental stability and health... I was dizzy. The conversation came back to the sexual relationship itself.

The truth is, I was not comfortable during the whole experience I had with my teacher, sometimes, I was even scared. Professor Fletcher was violent in his approach to sex. But I did like it. I did masturbate thinking of the moment he popped my cherry countless of times afterwards. He was an authority figure, yes. All of this may have been wrong, yes. But I had to say my truth and my own truth that even if it was all fucked up, I stayed anyway because I wanted him. Although, that did not mean other guys were not victims. I could only speak for myself.

"Can I go now?" I finally asked.

"Tyler, there will be consequences. You are going to need help." Dr. Harrison gives me his card. "The media are going to ask you questions... Your friends are going to ask you questions... We should call your parents and..."

"I'm a grown man. If this is your concerns, I won't press charge against the school or answer any journalist questions. Am I expelled from the College?"

"Tyler, as I told you, we are with the students..." Repeated the dean.

"Ok, then, I just want to go. Can I please go?"

"Tyler..."

"Look, I won't commit suicide" -- I had noticed this was one of their concerns as well - "I'm fine." -- obviously this could not be less true -- "I just want to leave this office!"

They finally let me go.

I stumbled in endless corridors before finding my way in some toilets to puke. The College seemed empty. It was not 7pm yet, such quiet was not normal. Maybe school had been cancelled for the day due to the scandal. National medias were apparently standing outside the campus. Now that hundreds of files had been leaked, the scandal had taken crazy proportions.

I realized that I was sweating a lot.

I broke down on the bathroom floor. Crying out all the tears of my body. I could not read my texts, "FAG" they would say. What would I say to my family? To Austin? To all of my friends? In the entire country, I will be known as the guy who got fucked and jizzed on by his Laws Professor. Why did I let him take this picture of me? Why did I sign it?

After a while, I opened my computer. I knew it would hurt but I had to know. I found the files quickly, links to get them were all over the students' Facebook, WhatsApp and Telegram groups.

From a rapid and first look, I realized that the story was indeed way bigger than me. There were hundreds of files, concerning at least 30 or 40 students, oldest files dated from 10 years before. And some of them had it even worse than me, not only there were pictures but also videos. I saw some familiar faces, some gay guys. All of the files contained at least one Polaroid picture with the student's face full of cum and his signature.

It was surreal going through them. I recognized the sophomore who had filed a complaint. I hoped he was ok. I saw the picture of me. And then... pictures of a ginger guy...

Fuck. This guy was Gary!

A whole file was named after him, it contained dozens of pictures and videos. It was one of the biggest files of the bunch. The first picture was the Polaroid one: his cute face covered, his tongue out, proudly showing off the thick cum of Fletcher on the tip of it.

But then, 3 other pictures visibly taken at 3 different times were shot the same way with slight variations. On one of the pictures, Gary was licking cum out of Fletcher's feet. In another one, it was not his face, but his asshole slightly covered with pale ginger hair who was leaking with white semen. In the last one, the word "SLUT" was written on his forehead with a black marker. It was of course covered with jizz.

Visibly, Gary was the exception. The one guy Professor Fletcher accepted to see several times.

Several clips showed Gary getting fucked, slapped, spit on and even pissed on. In most of the videos, Gary was pleading for more abuse, sometimes wearing thongs or other feminine clothes. I could not believe it. I knew him for more than 6 months. To the best of my knowledge, he had a girlfriend. And there he was, being Fletcher's bitch. Taking his load in his ass, moaning of pleasure, begging for more.

In the last video I watched, Gary was screaming: "feed me with your cum daddy and then make me swallow all of your piss, I'm your piggy boy!"

I closed my computer.

Hours had passed and my phone had kept on vibrating this whole time.

In a way, seeing Gary like this helped me getting out of my torpor. Suddenly, I was worried about him and no longer about myself. This gave me a reason to stand up and go back to the dorms. I needed to talk to my friend, make sure he was ok.

I had to face the others anyway. I could not live in this bathroom forever.

Still disoriented, exhausted and drained, I painfully walked through the campus. I had not eaten and had puked several times. I was in every way, empty. The winter would nearly come to an end, but for now, it was freezing outside. I liked that sensation, it calmed me down a bit.

I arrived at Building C. I don't even know how I managed to get there.

When I came in, I immediately saw a group of people beyond the hall, in the lounge area.

It was past midnight but everyone was there. The guys from football team, Martin, Henry, Steve, Luis, and even Tobias, who did not live in the dorms, were present. All the other residents seemed to be there as well, Ashley and Janice were visibly concerned. Gary was not among them though. Where was he?

Of course, Austin was there too, discussing with... my brother. Ryan had come to Campus, probably looking for me.

I entered the room and it was like the world had just stopped moving. A heavy silence fell upon us all and everyone turned towards me, shocked to see me there, as if I was a ghost.

Austin and my brother took a second to react but were the first to walk, almost run, towards me.

"Ty, are you ok?" Austin asked, he seemed overwhelmed.

"Ty, I'm here!" Said my brother at the same time.

I put my bag on the floor and hugged them both at the same time. The hug lasted several seconds, maybe several minutes. I loved them so much.

"What did this fucking asshole do to you?" whispered Austin in my ear.

I took a step back.

"Nothing. He did nothing."

"Ty.... We know... We have seen the picture."

"I mean..." I spoke louder. I wanted everyone to hear it, I did not want to have to repeat myself. "He did not do anything I did not want him to do." Someone gasped in the group behind Austin and my brother.

Austin stood there, in shock. My brother tried to gain back control of the situation: "Let's go talk bro."

But Martin loudly asked:

"What do you mean man? You wanted this?" He then continued: "I told you guys! Gary wanted it. Tyler wanted it as well! There was consent! Justice for Fletcher!"

"SHUT UP!" Shouted Austin. He started to run towards Martin but I stopped him.

"Not cool guys, calm down" mumbled Steve, visibly anxious.

"He's right! Martin is right!" I cried. "I wanted to fuck with him! I actually enjoyed it! That's just... I... Guys, it was just sex, it was nothing! I'm just... I just did not want people to know. I... I... I am gay."